


A Torchwood Knight

by Xennie_B



Category: A Knight's Tale (2001), Torchwood
Genre: Community: reel_torchwood, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-31
Updated: 2010-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xennie_B/pseuds/Xennie_B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In medieval times a sport arose, embraced by noble and peasant fans alike, though only noble knights could compete. The sport was jousting. For one of these knights, an over-the-hill former champion, it was the end. But for his peasant squire, Jack; it was merely the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Reel_Torchwood challenge. Round One.

Jack watched as the joust before him took place, waiting to see whom his master would next have to face in the tournament. His heart matched the pounding of hooves as the horses ran towards each other, each animal strong and healthy carrying their masters in heavy amour. The noise of wood splintering on amour sounded as Sir Henry was thrown from his horse, advancing Lord Philip to the final round.

“Jack!”

Hearing his name bellowed, he turned to answer when a pretty girl grabbed his attention. She smiled and winked at him and he grinned back, making his way through the crowd towards her. When he got there however, she screwed up her nose and looked down on him as if he was something she’d stepped on.

Jack sighed and turned away, but watched from the corner of his eye as she made her way back to her lady's side. Of course, she was a handmaiden; they always fancied themselves above the rest of the peasants, though Jack didn’t see why. They still cleaned up shit, even if it was a nobleman or woman’s instead of an animal’s.

She whispered to her lady and Jack rolled his eyes as she pointed at him and laughed. Foolish little wenches. One of these days they would learn that they were not that much better when they were forced to marry a man just as common as he.

Jack made his way back towards his master who was still bellowing for him, this time he ignored the tricks and lure of the peasant girls. Some of them were probably genuine in their interests and any other time he would have happily taken them to his bed. But right now he had work to do so that they could eat tonight.

“Where have you been?” Sir Ector demanded as soon as he got back. His friends; the other squires, rolled their eyes at their master’s forgetfulness before continuing on with their tasks.

“I was watching the lists for you sire, you next face Lord Philip of Aragon,” Jack replied with a bow of his head.

“Good, good, now saddle Janet and make sure she’s ready go,” Sir Ector ordered, turning away from Jack in a clear dismissal.

Jack deliberately didn’t let his annoyance show as he made his way towards the old mare.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to tell Sir Ector what to do with his orders after all these years, but it would only get him a beating, or worse.

Janet nipped his arm when he reached for her and he frowned in irritation before soothing her temper with a rub behind her ears, she could be such a grumpy old bag. Once she was calm he quickly saddled her and led her to Sir Ector who clumsily pulled himself up into the saddle.

This was not how a knight should be. Jack just wished that one day he’d be able to show these lazy old men what a knight was really meant to be.

No one could have known his opportunity would be just around the corner.


	2. Chapter 1

Rhys and Jack stood on the embankment waiting for their master, who was down behind a tree taking care of some ‘business’. The only thing was the man hadn’t moved in the last 20 minutes and he was really starting to stink.

“Should we help him?” Rhys asked looking at Jack for the answer. He may have been the youngest of the three squires but somehow he’d ended up being their unofficial leader. Jack wasn’t sure when it happened but it was times like this when he really didn’t mind. Times when he could subtly delegate crappy tasks.

“He’s due in the lists in two minutes, two minutes or forfeit,” Jack said waving his hand slightly in their master’s direction.  
Rhys sighed before looking at Jack who was wearing homemade nose plugs to keep out the smell. “Lend us those.”  
Jack looked at Rhys oddly before pulling a second set out of his pocket, “Left, right,” he instructed handing them over.

“Thanks,” Rhys muttered, putting them in and heading down the embankment only slipping and landing on his ass once before he reached Sir Ector. Leaning over to look at the man, he flinched back in surprise. “He’s dead.”

“Heh?!” Jack grunted, unable to come up with a more coherent comment in his surprise.

Rhys reached out and carefully closed the man’s eyes before leaning on the tree and looking up at Jack helplessly. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

Owen came bounding up to them and thumped Jack soundly on the back. “Three scores to none after two lances. All Sir Ector has to do is stay on that bloody horse and we’ve won.”

“He’s dead.”

“What do you mean?” Owen asked, not believing what Jack had just said to him.

“The spark of his life is smothered in shite. His spirit is gone but his stench remains. Does that answer your question?” Rhys retorted, making his way back up the embankment.

“No no no, he sleeps! Rouse the git!” Owen retorted, sliding down the bank himself to ‘wake’ him. Stopping in front of the man, he saw that the others were right and looked up at the other two who were now standing at the top looking down on him wearing similar ‘I told you so’ looks. “We’re minutes from victory, I haven’t eaten in three days!”

“None of us have, Owen!” Jack snapped, getting frustrated as the reality of their situation began to sink in. Without their master they were nothing. They were a very long way from home with no food and no money. Once the authorities found out what happened, all of Sir Ector's belongings would be packed up and sent back to his home, but not them, they would be left on their own. None of them had any possessions, so nothing to sell, unless they could find work with another knight here, which was unlikely as they all had their own servants already. They would have to become beggars just to survive.

“I’ll go fetch a priest,” Rhys sighed.

“No! He’s not dead! You wake up! Come on! Come on you manky git!” Owen growled, pulling on Sir Ector’s arm and even resorting to kicking him, trying to get a reaction, taking out his fear and frustration on the man at the same time.

Jack was just about to go down and pull Owen off him when the sound of hoof beats drew his attention. The tournament’s herald was making his way over to fetch them. “Rhys,” he said, getting the other man’s attention and gesturing for him to turn so they stood side by side blocking most of the view of Owen and Sir Ector. Though Owen’s swearing could still be heard quite clearly.

“Squire, Sir Ector must report at once or forfeit the match,” the herald announced as he pulled up his horse sharply in front of them, showing no concern to the poor animal he rode or the dust he scattered across the peasants before him.

“Ah we regret to…” Rhys began.

“He’s on his way,” Jack announced cutting Rhys off. The herald eyed them suspiciously before extending the look in Owen’s direction, but not being able to make sense of what he heard he merely gave small nod of his head, turned his horse and took off in the other direction.

“If you weren’t dead I’d kill you myself! I haven’t eaten in three days! You obviously have since you’ve managed to shite yourself to death! You stupid bastard!!” Owen’s tirade continued in the background as Rhys stared at Jack in confusion.

“I’ll ride in his place,” Jack announced, turning and heading down the embankment as Rhys stared after him in shock.

“Strip his armour. I’m riding in his place,” Jack said, beginning to unbuckle the shoulder guard while Owen continued his tirade. Jack caught the flying foot just before it connected once more with Sir Ector’s side. “Owen, stop kicking him! I’m riding in his place. Help me.”

It took Owen only a second to realize this would get him food and money before he was helping Jack pull the armour from their dead master.

“What’s your name, Jack?” Rhys asked and Jack paused to look at him, stubbornness the only thing keeping him from reacting to the fact that Rhys had just said exactly what was running through his head.

“I’m asking you, Jack Harkness, to answer me with your name. It’s not Sir Jack. It’s not Count or Duke and it’s certainly not King Jack,” Rhys continued ignoring Jack’s glare as the younger man went back to his work.

“I know that!” Jack threw over his shoulder.

“You must be of noble birth to compete.”

“A detail. The outcome is food. Do you want to eat or not?” Jack countered and on that point he knew he had Rhys.

Rhys was just as hungry as the rest of them and he knew better than them what it was like to have to beg for his food since that was where he was when Sir Ector first found him as a young boy.

“If the nobles find out who you are there’ll be the devil to pay,” Rhys retorted.

“Then pray that they don’t.” Jack grinned up at Rhys who rolled his eyes and made his way down the hill towards them to help.

  
\----------------------------------

_   
_Ten-year-old Jack weaved his way through the crowd, holding his brother Gray’s hand, as they made their way towards where their father was calling them. _ _

_Spotting his father near the front of the parade Jack dashed forward trying to make it through a large gap of people. _

_They weren’t quite fast enough and a man knocked them to the ground. Gray’s hand slipped from Jack’s and they were both pushed in opposite directions by the moving crowd. _

_“Gray! Gray!” Jack called but there was no answer. Quickly he made his way towards his father _

_“Dad I lost Gray in the crowd!” Jack said as soon as he reached his father’s side. _

_“It’s alright I’ll go and find him,” Jack’s father said. Picking his older son up, he sat him on the stocks to watch the parade much to the amusement of the man locked inside them. _

_“Now you stay there son while I go find your brother.” _

_Jack watched as his father made his way through the crowd to find Gray before turning back to the parade before him. Watching as knight after knight rode past in their fine armour, sitting atop their large powerful horses. Jack waved to as many as looked in his direction. Finally one smiled and waved back at him. _

_“Do you like the knights boy?” the man in the stocks asked. _

_Jack stared down at him for a moment wondering if it would be uncomfortable being locked in them, before turning back to the parade with a smile. _

_“Someday, I’ll be a knight,” Jack grinned to himself. _

_ __ _ __“A Thatcher’s son? A knight? You might as well try to change the stars,” the man laughed_ and Jack frowned down at him. _ __

_A sniffling noise beside him alerted Jack to his father’s return. Gray, damp, filthy and crying was cradled in his arms as he glared at the man in the stocks for trying to ruin his son’s dreams. Jack reached out and patted his brother’s leg giving him a small smile in apology. _

_Gray tearily smiled back and all was forgiven. _

_“Can it be done, Father? Can a man change his stars?” Jack asked, staring up at his father with the total trust that only a child could show in their parents. _

_“Yes, Jack. If he believes enough, a man can do anything.” _

\----------------------------------

  
Jack stared out across the field through the slit of his visor. He was finally here. After all the years of being Sir Ector’s squire, he was where he wanted to be, even if it was only for this one joust, he was here, he was a knight.

“Ready?” Owen asked from where he stood on Janet’s right, holding her bridle to keep her standing where she was supposed to be and not where the hay was that she was eyeing off.

“Of course, I’ve tilted against Sir Ector many times,” Jack replied confidently, though his stomach was full of butterflies.

“In the practice lists. As his target. You were never allowed to strike him,” Rhys replied.

How did he manage to do that? It was like he had and internal link to Jack conscious as he always managed to say exactly what was on Jack’s mind, and it was always that annoying little voice, never the more confident one.

“Details, details,” Jack muttered in annoyance, they needed to keep their voices down so they weren’t overheard by any of the people wandering around them.

“The landscape then. Stay on the horse. He needs three points to beat you so a broken lance won’t do it. He must knock you off the horse,” Rhys reminded him.

Jack was getting nervous and frustrated now, he just wanted to go. “I know how to score Rhys,” he growled and Rhys rolled his eyes in response, quite used to Jack’s mood swings. “And I’ve waited my whole life for this moment,” Jack stated as they lined the horse up with the lists, watching as his opponent did the same.

“You’ve waited your whole life for Sir Ector to shite himself to death?” Owen snorted releasing Janet to Jack’s control, and with a small nod to Jack for luck, he and Rhys moved back a few paces to watch the match.


	3. Chapter 2

Jack sat on the side of the road watching as Rhys bartered with a tradesman to sell the gold trophy, shaped like a feather, they'd won in the tournament. His head was still throbbing from the blow to his head but at least he'd managed to stay conscious and on the horse so he could win the match.

Helmet or not, being hit in the head with a lance hurt like hell, not to mention the blow was in fact hard enough to dent the helmet. It had been a good excuse not to take off his helmet for the ceremony though, saying it was bent onto his skull. It had taken a little effort but in the end they had gotten it off without too much trouble. He'd have to look at it later to see if he could bash it back into shape without needing a Ferris to do it. If his plan worked he'd need it again. All he had to do was convince the other two, since there was no way he could do this on his own.

Glancing around, he spotted a body hanging from the gibbets, beside it the body of a child in a cage. A note at the bottom announced that the local Lord's soldiers had them hanged for thievery and that they sat as warning for those entering their land. Without his friends help he was likely to end up just like them.

As he thought about how to broach the subject, Jack climbed to his feet while Rhys walked over with a handful of coins from the trader.

"Fifteen silver florins," Rhys announced as he got closer. "He didn't want that." He tossed the cushion which had held the feather to Owen. Owen caught it tucked it under his arm and both he and Jack moved towards Rhys as he counted out the coins.

"That's five for Jack... five for Owen... and five for Rhys who's going straight home to Wales," Rhys said, grinning as he held his coins tightly in his fist.

"Straight to the pub for me. Eel pie, brie tart... tansy cake with peppermint cream," Owen said, almost drooling at the thought.

Jack watched his two friends eager to go off and spend their money and knew now was his only chance. "We could do this," Jack started.

"We've done it Jack. That's silver in your hand," Rhys grinned as he dug into his bag searching for his rarely used money pouch.

"No, I mean, we can do this. We can be champions," Jack said, staring into space a little so he missed the troubled look Owen and Rhys shared. "Give us your coins."

When neither man moved Jack moved towards them instead. "Give me your coins," he said and took them from both their hands. He was a little surprised that they'd let them go but he assumed it was a good sign. Maybe the thought of having more money to share was

 

something to them after all.

"Ok so that's one for you... and one for you..." Jack placed a coin in each their hands before counting what was left. "That leaves thirteen. Thirteen for training and out-fitting. The tournament in Rouen is in a month. In a month we could split a prize even bigger than this one. In one month we could be on our way to glory and riches none of us ever dreamed of."

"In one month we could be lying in a ditch with Sir Ector. I don't want glory and riches Jack, I want to go home," Rhys argued shaking his head. He knew it was a bad idea to let Jack compete in Sir Ector's place, he got one bee in his bonnet, one idea stuck in his head and the stubborn git will run with it until he's exhausted.

"Food, Jack. Food and a bed and the company of a woman. I'll take my five now," Owen replied, hand outstretched in demand.

Jack turned on the puppy eyes, wearing them down as much as he could, already knowing he'd have to try other measures to convince them.

"But you can't even joust!"

Jack grinned on the inside. Of course Rhys would be the first one to give and with any luck Owen would follow.

"Most of it is the guts to take a blow and guts I have," Jack explained.

"And a thick skull," Owen snorted.

Jack frowned at him. Okay, maybe Owen wouldn't follow so easily.

"Technique?" Rhys asked.

"Technique? I have a month to learn that. Besides, the sword! Name a man better with a sword than I am."

"In the practice ring," Owen retorted.

"You're not of noble birth Jack? Or are you forgetting that one major issue?" Rhys added and Jack realised he was beginning to lose the higher ground he'd had a moment ago.

"So we lie. We've done it once why can't we do it again? How did the nobles become noble in the first place? They took it. At the tip of a sword. I'll do it with a lance."

"A blunted lance," Owen countered.

"No matter, Owen. I won't spend the rest of my life as nothing!" Jack growled and the pair exchanged another look as finally the real issue came to the surface.

Sighing in frustration, he realised the only chance he had of getting through to Jack was to be blunt. Grabbing the younger man's arm, Rhys turned Jack to face the gibbets. "That is nothing. And nothing is exactly where glory will take us."

 

"We're the sons of peasants. Glory and riches and stars are out of our reach. But a full stomach and a comfortable bed... that dream can come true," Owen added, his hand held out for Jack to give him back his coins.

Jack made a fist around the coins and raised them before him. "If you can take your coins from me, do what you want with them, but if you can't you come with me."

When neither man reacted right away, Jack began to relax his guard, a moment too soon he realised as both men threw themselves at him, knocking him to the ground.

\----------------------------------

Owen and Rhys stood leaning against a tree in the woods, watching as Jack rode Janet aiming his lance at a swinging target they'd set up on the path.

"20 minutes riding on the horse says he misses," Owen whispered, watching as Jack lined up with the target.

"Do I look like a bloody fool?" Rhys retorted and Owen shrugged in response as they watch Jack ride past the target and miss.

"Ooh, better luck next time," Rhys called out to Jack as he turned the horse around and lined himself back up, only to miss again.

"I think he's actually getting worse," Owen groaned.

"He is getting worse," Rhys confirmed, watching Jack once again line himself up with the target.

By some miracle Jack managed to hit it this time. "I did it! I did it!" he cheered, turning in the saddle so he could see his surprised friends and gloat.

"Tree!" Rhys called.

Too late.

The low branch caught Jack in his armoured chest and knocked him right off Janet's back, landing awkwardly in a heap of man and metal armour on the dirt track as Janet trotted off to find herself some grass to eat nearby.

"Glory and riches, glory and riches and stars," Jack whispered to himself. He climbed heavily to his feet, flexing everything to determine whether he'd hurt anything. When no real twinges were forthcoming he turned to the others with a grin.

Both men were red in the face from trying not to laugh at him and Jack smirked as a revenge formed in his mind. "I need a smaller target to aim at."

\----------------------------------

Owen stared at the wooden shield Rhys held out to him. "No bloody way!"

 

"You lost the toss Owen, now stop being such a wimp and take it," Rhys replied, slamming the shield into the other man's hand before pushing him towards the path where Jack prepared to ride towards them.

As soon as Rhys let him go, Owen tried to move out of the way so the older, larger man held him in place.

"Don't be such a coward," Rhys hissed, watching Owen awkwardly holding up the shield as Jack rode towards them.

"It's not cowardice, it's self preservation!" Owen retorted, and on the last word threw the shield to the ground and ducked, Jack's lance flying past where his head had been moments earlier.

Rhys ground in pain, clearly hurting, as he fisted his shirt. Looking down, Owen saw where the heavy wooden shield had landed on Rhys foot. "Do you see how dangerous this is?"

Rhys looked like he was about to punch Owen but Jack's approach stopped him.

"We need to find another way to practice. We've been at it for hours and Janet's beginning to tire. I don't want to run her down and risk hurting her. She's too old and she's the only horse we've got," Jack said, dismounting and rubbed her down as he untacked her.

"Well you're just going to have to win us another horse sooner rather than later aren't you," Owen smirked.

"Hey, it's not easy un-horsing a man you know," Jack replied, flinching when Janet's teeth caught the back of his arm.

"Especially when you can't even hit the wooden targets," Rhys replied.

Jack looked like he was about to retort when a devious look came across his face. "Wait here, I know how we can practice," Jack said and dashed towards their cart of equipment and supplies.

\----------------------------------

Jack pushed the now empty supply cart towards the other two. Janet and their pack mule, Mary, who pulled the cart, now stood happily under the tree and the men were watching Jack with growing dread.

"I'll stand in the back with the lance and you two can pull it along," Jack said, standing beside the cart looking pretty smug.

"What if you miss, and miss and miss?" Rhys asked in disbelief.

"Then we'll have to try again," Jack said and with a cheeky smile reached down and picked some of the long grass at his feet. Standing, he waved the grass in Rhys and Owen's direction, clicking his tongue as he did so. "Here, horsey horsey, good horsey..."

Rhys and Owen exchanged a look."Fong him?" Rhys asked, to which he received a quick nod from Owen before both men took off after a laughing Jack as he ran around the cart.


	4. Chapter 3

Jack poked the fire watching the sparks as they rose up into the air. Rhys was altering some of Sir Ector's better clothes for Jack to wear when they began their way towards Roeun the next day while Owen lay back on the grass staring up at the stars above them.

"We need a banner," Jack said, poking at the fire once more.

Owen looked up at him and snorted, letting his head drop back to the ground and Rhys raised an eyebrow at him but didn't actually look up at him.

"I was thinking of a phoenix."

Rhys signed, "Why waste the money Jack? We have Sir Ector's white stag."

"Someone may recognise it, we need to be reborn. I was thinking a phoenix rising from the ashes."

"A lion, fierce, powerful all that," Owen said sitting up.

Rhys grinned at the idea. "Yeah, walking with right forepaw raised."

"What about up on its hind legs, snake grasped in its teeth," Owen countered.

"Everyone has lions," Jack argued. "Can't you see it? A phoenix, rising from the ashes, just like me."

"Well, if it's all about you get what you want," Rhys said huffily, picking up his work again.

"I meant like the three of us. The end is where we start from. Just like a phoenix," Jack replied and waited for either of them to respond.

"Three phoenixes then," Owen suggested.

"Three," Jack and Rhys nodded their agreement.

\----------------------------------

Jack smiled as he rode along peacefully on Janet. Closing his eyes he enjoyed the wind on his face, for once not ruffling a scraggly beard. For the first time in many years he was clean shaven. His dreadlocked hair was also gone, now a much closer cut that meant his hair looked its actual brown colour not the greasy almost black 'rat tails' as Rhys had called them. He was dressed in the clothes Rhys had taken in for him, though they had made sure to wash them thoroughly in the first stream they'd come across. Sir Ector was not the cleanest of men.

 

Rhys and Owen walked beside the cart pretending to be the faithful squires and to make sure Mary didn't wander off course.

"It's my turn to ride," Owen said, moving up so he was walking along side of Janet.

"No, we haven't reached the marker and I'm not sure you should. Supposed we pass another knight. How would it look if my squire rode while I walked?" Jack replied and though it gave the impression that he didn't want to walk, it was actually a valid point.

"I don't give a rat's arse! It's my turn!" Owen argued, moving in front of Janet, the horse coming to a halt with a snort of annoyance, her ears pulling back in warning.

"Hey, hey, maybe no one should be riding. She's not as young as she used to be and we need her unharmed and ready to work," Rhys said reaching out and taking Janet's bridle in an effort to calm the aggravated mare before she decided to either throw Jack or take a chunk out of Owen.

"Fine fine," Jack replied, hands up in defeat before sliding out of the saddle.

"Morning, morning."

Jack looked up, mid dismount, as a man walked past them reaching out to briefly pat Janet's neck on the way past, seemingly oblivious to his state of dress, or more correctly, undress.

"Hoy Sir!" Jack called, finishing the dismount as the man stopped to look at them. "What are you doing?"

"Uh... trudging. You know, trudging? To trudge?" he asked and continued to slowly move along the road again, this time with the other's following him curiously. "To trudge the slow, weary, depressing, yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in his life, except the impulse to soldier on."

"Were you robbed?" Jack asked curiously. He certainly looked like he might have, he was covered in mud and dirt but without a scrap of clothing on him.

"Interesting question that. Yes and at the same time a huge resounding no. It's more an involuntary vow of poverty, really, but you know on the brighter side, trudging does represent pride. Pride, resolve and faith in the good lord almighty. Please Christ rescue me from my current tribula – Aahh!" He stopped walking, hopping on one foot while he got his balance before bringing the other foot up to his mouth so he could pull something sharp from between his toes with his teeth.

"Who are you?" Rhys asked as the man placed his foot back on the ground, putting pressure on the toes as if testing how much pain the recent injury would cause him.

"Lilium inter spinas. The lily among the thorns. Andrew Davidson's the name. Writing's the game, though admittedly when I write I use a different name. Geoffrey Chaucer at your service. My friends call me Andy."

The others exchanged looks to see if any of them knew what he was on about but it was

 

pretty obvious from the blank looks that none of them did.

"Chaucer? Geoffrey Chaucer, the writer?" Andy asked, getting annoyed at their ignorance. Why did he even bother writing when no one ever knew who he was?

"A what?" Owen asked, his nose screwing up in confusion

"A what? A writer, you know I write, with ink and parchment. For a penny I'll scribble you anything you want: summonses, decrees, edicts, warrants, patents of nobility. I've even been known to jot down a poem or two if the muse descends. You've probably read my book 'The Book of the Duchess'?" When he got no reply, Andy shrugged "Fine. Well, it was allegorical."

"Well we won't hold it against you. That's for each man to decide for himself." Rhys grinned.

"Did you say patents of nobility?" Jack asked curiously. It was one thing they were desperately in need of and not something they could do themselves.

Andy eyed them coolly. "Yes, that's right, I did. And you gentlemen are?"

"Well... well I am Sir Ulrich del Immortalis from Torchwood and these here are my faithful squires. Delves of Dodgington... and Fowlehurst of Crewe," Jack replied, wincing slightly at how completely he had fumbled and buttered the introduction.

Andy stepped forward and shook Jack's hand. "I'm Richard the Lionheart, pleased to meet you. No, wait a minute, I'm Charlemagne! No, I'm St John the Baptist!"

Jack gritted his teeth in frustration. The first person they'd come across and he'd already been caught out. Drawing his dagger he stepped forward and knocked Andy back, holding the dagger near his chin. "All right, hold your tongue, sir, or lose it."

Andy looked up at the younger man with a growing smirk. "Now you see that, I do believe... Sir Ulrich."

"Thank you, Andy," Jack said, stepping back and allowing the other man to sit up again.

"Have you any more to say Master Nude, or having failed your test may we be on out way?" Rhys retorted as the trio moved their way back to Janet and the cart where they'd left them a little way up the road.

"Oh, you're off to the tournament are you?" Andy called after them, still sitting on the side of the road, though he'd made himself a little more comfortable then where he'd fallen when Jack had knocked him back.

"This is the road to Rouen!" Owen retorted.

"Well you know that really remains to be seen..." Andy shrugged, staring down the road in the direction he'd been walking. "See, they're limiting the field at Rouen, noble birth must be established for four generations on either side of the family. Patents of nobility must be provided."

 

Andy turned back to the others with a barely covered smirk, he knew he had their attention.

Jack signed and turned back to face the man, arms crossed in annoyance.

"Listen, clothe me, shoe me, for God's sake, feed me, let me ride that horse a bit and you'll have your patents," Andy promised.

"No," Owen replied instantly.

Jack grabbed his arm and gestured for Rhys to come closer so they could talk. Andy just sat on the side of the road patiently waiting for the three companions to throw up the pros and cons of letting him join their little troop.

"Patents of nobility," Jack said and that one statement really said it all.

"We need them. We need him, none of us can act as herald but he could do it easily," Rhys agreed.

Owen looked like he was about to protest again. Clenching a fist, he held up his hand to the other two. "Alright, let me handle it," he said, turning and walking towards Andy who looked up at his approach.

"Be nice," Rhys called after him.

"This could be interesting," Jack muttered, running a hand through his short hair and glaring at Rhys who smirked in amusement as the hair stood up in an odd direction due to his raking.

Owen walked over and squatted down in front of Andy so they were eye level. "All right, ah... betray us and I will fong you until your insides are out, your outsides are in and your entrails will become your extrails. I will ring... all the... I will... pain, lots of pain."

Jack and Rhys snickered quietly in the background. Andy tried hard to stop the smile as he nodded in a agreement and Owen smirked before offering Andy a hand and pulling him to his feet.


	5. Chapter 4

Ianto walked amongst the tournament crowds waiting for something in the stalls to catch his eye but nothing did. He wasn't sure why his cousin insisted they come with her to these things. She didn't agree with her husband competing and yet she always travelled to support him, and always dragged them with her.

His sister, Rhiannon, didn't seem to have any problem with it; she quite enjoyed the tournaments and the attention she gained from the knights. Ianto however found it a bore; he wasn't allowed to compete due to his title and connections to the throne so he was reduced to watching and looking like a weakling to the other noblemen. His cousin in law was supposed to compete even less than he did, but when you had that much power no one really argued with you.

Ianto walked past a few men who were staring ahead of them and whispering about an attractive noblewoman and he quickened his pace. Sure enough the crowd parted before them to reveal his sister and her handmaiden admiring a silk scarf at one of the stalls.

Moving forward he pressed a kiss to her cheek and she grinned up at him in thanks, both on them noticing her admirers moving away disappointed. Gwen giggled behind them knowing that it was a game the siblings often played. They looked a little alike, but at first glance you'd never tell so they could easily pretend to be lovers to ditch the unwanted attention.

"You just can't stay inconspicuous can you Rhi?" Ianto teased.

"You're one to talk. It seems you have a follower," Rhiannon replied, gesturing with a slight tip of her head in the direction of a handsome man sat atop a horse. He was behind Ianto and seemed to be watching the pair carefully.

"He's probably just mad at me for stealing you from his sights," Ianto replied with a shrug.

"It's not me he's staring at," Rhiannon teased, slipping her arms through Ianto's as they walked through the streets with Gwen walking quietly at their heels.

"Rhiannon, contrary to this belief you and our dear cousin seem to have developed not everyman is…"

"Gone bender?" Rhiannon supplied, giggling with Gwen when Ianto hissed at her to lower her voice, though the smile on his face told them he was finding it just as amusing. "Well, if my brother can, why can't others?"

"I have not 'gone bender' as you so graciously put it sister. I simply look for more in a lover than their gender. And I find mostly woman catch my eye when I walk the streets here," Ianto replied, making sure to keep his voice low so they were not overheard by the people around them.

 

"But there was a man?" Gwen asked quietly from behind them

Ianto turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Oh you are lucky dear Gwen that you do not have a stricter master, for I have yet to see you able to hold that tongue of yours."

"Then lucky I am indeed," Gwen grinned back.

"Though she does have a point? There was a man? You have been keeping secrets from me brother?"

"There was, only one, a few tournaments back now."

\----------------------------------

Ianto slipped out the back of the tournament party leaving his sister and cousin to all the dancing they wanted. His cousin-in-law didn't go so he wasn't entirely sure why he was expected to.

Pulling his 'borrowed' brown peasant cloak closer, he made his way through the tents that belonged to the various knights who had competed over the last few weeks. His rooms were on the other side and unless he wanted to be spotted and dragged back to the party he would first have to pass through the tents and then the slums to get to its location.

The tents were no problem; they were full of the squires enjoying a night off, joking, laughing and talking about the tournament, just enjoying themselves while their masters were away.

Amongst them were the maids and servant girls keeping them and soon after their beds warm and they were all too distracted with their own world that none of them paid any attention as he walked by.

The slums however were a different matter; the only people down here at this time of the night were thieves and murderers. Ianto was unarmed and though he was fully trained in hand to hand combat, the kinds of people down here would be armed. With their dirty fighting and weapons, Ianto would be a fool to take them on. Instead, Ianto listened closely and avoided all contact he could with people, but unfortunately he was spotted and hearing someone following him, he did the only thing he could do. He made his way quickly back to the knight's area.

Once there he should have been safe, but his followers were determined, knowing of the party meant they had the courage to enter such an area after their prey.

Ianto was passing by a tent when a hand reached out and yanked him inside. He was about to fight back when he found himself successfully pinned beneath a man with a hand clamped over his mouth to silence him. He stared up at his captor in shock as the man watched through the crack of the tent. Ianto froze, hearing footsteps and murmurs from outside as his followers tried to figure out which way he had turned.

Ianto's captor leant down over him as the shadows of the men fell across the tent they were in. Ianto couldn't help but notice the enticing smell coming from the man above him, but all too soon the man was climbing off him and letting him go.

 

The stranger walked over and uncovered a lantern he'd hidden safely in the corner, spreading light across the tent. Ianto quickly sat up and covered his fine clothes under the robe he wore before the man turned to face him.

"Are you alright? What could you have done to warrant that lot coming after you?" asked his captor, though to be more accurate, Ianto realised he was in fact his rescuer.

Ianto looked at the man as he sat in front of him, he was clearly a squire to someone, though Ianto didn't recognize the crest on the man's clothing. He was scruffy and looked older with long brown mattered hair and a scruffy beard covering his face. "I was walking in the wrong part of town it would seem, thank you for helping me."

"Couldn't let you get squashed now could I," the man said looking up, blue eyes sparkling with cheek, and it was in that moment that Ianto realized the man was probably only a year or two older than himself, it was only his appearance that seemed to age him.

Ianto found himself drowning in those eyes. He'd never found himself attracted to another man, but there was something there, in those eyes that were drawing him in and stirring all kinds of feelings inside his stomach.

"What's your name?" the man asked, reaching out to brush his fingertips down Ianto's cheek.

"I ah…" Ianto began. He wasn't sure why but he didn't want to tell the man his name. Because his name would separate them faster than anything else in the world and that was the last thing he wanted right now.

"Welsh accent, even with such small words you can make them sound so tantalizing".

Eyes still locked on each other, blue on blue, the two men moved slowly towards each other, neither really knowing what they were doing, both letting instinct and desire guide them.

"MASTER JONES!!" The voices had started in the distance a short while ago but Ianto hadn't paid any attention to them. Now, however, they were right outside the tent and had both men jumping in shock.

"Wha…." The man didn't have a chance to finish his question as Ianto reached out and pulled their lips together in a powerful kiss.

When Ianto pulled back he stared into the man's surprised, though pleased eyes. "Thank you, but I have to go," Ianto whispered before climbing to his feet and quickly moving out of the tent.

Just outside the tent he shed his 'borrowed' cloak and stepped towards the men who had their backs to him.

"All this noise is going to wake the poor squires who have already retired for the night," Ianto said, announcing his presence.

"My Lord, your sister sent us out to find you. She was worried when you went missing from

 

the banquet. She also insisted we bring your cloak to you as the winter air is beginning to set in," Marthew said holding out the cloak.

"Thank you, Marthew, though why she worries so much when she know I can take care of myself I will never understand," Ianto replied, taking the cloak from their head guard with a smile and slipping it gratefully over his shoulders. It was a little cold now that he didn't have a warm body against him.

"We should be heading back now, Sir, it's not safe this close to the slums, there's any number of nasty men about," Marthew said, turning to lead the way back to the banquet, a few of his men moving to surround Ianto in a protective manor.

As Ianto was led towards the banquet he turned back to see a set of confused blue eyes watch him sadly walk away. Ianto's heart felt heavier with every step, knowing he'd never see the man who drew such feelings from him again.

\----------------------------------

"Well then dear brother…" Rhiannon said, amusement tingeing her voice as she broke him from his memories, "I think we should see what your follower wants."

"I still believe it is you he follows," Ianto replied.

"Shall we let him follow us a little further as see then?" Rhiannon asked.

Ianto looked into the mirror on the stall in front of him, angling himself so he could see the man. He was handsome, and there was just something about him…

"Alright then, lets," Ianto agreed with a nod, smiling as Rhiannon and Gwen's happy giggles filled his ears.


	6. Chapter 5

Jack couldn't help but stare at the young man walking through the crowd. He never thought he'd see him again, and yet here he was, dressed in fine clothes of deep red and black just like he had been on that night. He'd been with a few men in his life, though always behind Sir Ector's back. But that night when he'd saved a lost looking stranger from thieves was the first time he'd truly felt something for another man and one he'd only just met at that. Then the voices had come and Master Jones had been taken back to his own world where Jack had never imagined he could go; yet here he was. Finally Jack had a chance… but how? It wasn't like he could walk up to the man and go 'do you remember me?' That would ruin their plans and have him in the gallows before sunset. No, he'd have to meet him all over again.

Jack realised suddenly that he could no longer see Jones, so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed that Janet had stopped walking and was having her nose scratched by some children. It was times like this he remembered what a softy Janet was deep inside, she'd never shown any aggression towards children either of her species or any other. Reluctantly he told the children they had to be off and urged Janet further along the street until he caught sight of the man again.

Jack watched as Jones walked through the crowd and up to a beautiful noblewoman pressing a kiss to her cheek. Jack sighed in disappointment, of course he had a woman, he was noble and handsome what woman wouldn't want him and he could probably have whichever he chose. Even with this revelation. Jack continued to watch them and it wasn't long before he began to wonder about their relationship, they certainly didn't act like lovers, family perhaps, they did look a little similar now that Jack thought about it.

They began to move through the crowd again and Jack continued to follow their path. Finally, the crowd thinned enough for him to catch up, and stealing his nerves he pulled Janet up alongside them.

"Will you speak to me?" he asked, directing the question at the man, though it was the woman who chose to answer him to his surprise. He should have known that was going to happen. While same sex relationships did happen, it was fairly uncommon, and for one to become public, they needed royal permission but only after they'd proven their dedication to each other by outing themselves to the royal family.

"But Sir, my sex is marked by their silence," she kept her eyes in front as she spoke. Jones spared him a brief glance and the handmaiden tried to keep her eyes front, though Jack noticed they kept drifting in his direction.

"Will your companion not speak to me instead?" Jack asked, looking down at Jones, hoping to not only get him to speak to him, but an answer to their relationship as well.

"What would you have me say in my sister's stead?" Jones replied smoothly and Jack

 

couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, they were siblings after all.

"How about the pleasure of your names?" Jack replied. He didn't bother to look where they were going, the siblings were heading somewhere and he wanted to be where they were. It was easy enough for him to steer Janet with his knees to keep pace with his targets and he knew if the old mare needed to stop because of a hazard she would.

"Would you care if she were ugly?" Jones asked, gesturing to his sister beside him.

"She does not interest me…ah I mean yes, I mean no…I," Jack stumbled over his words realizing what he'd just let slip. The maid and Jones' sister giggled at him while Jones merely raised an eyebrow.

"You desecrate the house of God!!" The deep bellowing voice had Jack looking up in surprise. Glancing around the room it suddenly dawned on him that he'd followed the siblings right inside the city's cathedral, while still mounted on Janet's back. Priests moved towards him, arms outstretched to push Janet back out the doors behind them.

Jack looked down at Jones, who was watching him in amusement; their eyes finally meeting for and both men felt the jolt that moved through them.

"Tell me your names," Jack urged as Janet snapped at the priests who were trying to move her backwards.

"And what would you do with a name, Sir Hunter?" the sister asked when her brother said nothing. "Call us foxes, for that's all we shall be to you."

"A fox?" Jack asked, breaking eyes with Jones to meet his sisters in amusement. Glancing back at Jones he once again caught his eye. "Then a pair of foxes you shall be, cunning and sly foxes until I find out your names."

Jones nodded at Jack, both in farewell and as an acceptance of his interest, and the start of a courtship between the two men, something that, for now, they would need to keep quite. With a nod of understanding Jack quickly turned Janet and made his way out of the cathedral.

"He's a handsome hunter, I'll give him that," Jack heard the sister say to her maid and glanced back just in time to see Jones give them a dirty look before he lost sight of them , for now.

\----------------------------------

Jack heard cheering rise from the stadium and cursed softly. He was late. Urging Janet onwards he moved as quickly as possible through the crowd and towards the lists. He quickly located their tent by the flag flying on the top and with ease he jumped from Janet's back and tossed her reins over the railing before ducking inside their tent.

"You're almost late! Where in the hell have you been?" Rhys asked as soon as he was inside.

"I was taking a walk around the town," Jack answered, quickly stripping out of his outer clothing as Rhys held up the armour for him to move into.

 

"Foolish git," Owen muttered, moving outside to prepare Janet.

\----------------------------------

Jack tightened his wrist guards as they walked towards the lists, Owen leading Janet behind him and Rhys carrying his helmet and shield.

They were brought up short as a scaly looking man with a cane stepped out in front of them. "Sir Ulrich del Immortalis? I am Simon the Summoner."

"And I'm due in the lists any minute now," Jack said, planning to move past but the man put out his cane to stop him.

"I must detain you on behalf of you herald," Simon smirked, a cruel look that had Jack wondering about Andy's safety and with a nod he gestured for the man to lead the way, exchanging worried looks with Rhys and Owen once the other man's back was turned.

\----------------------------------

"You were never robbed, were you?" Jack sighed staring into the guilty face of his newest friend, who once again stood completely naked before him.

"I have a gambling problem, I can't help myself," Andy admitted, eyes downcast in shame. "And these people will… literally take the clothes off your back." Andy shrugged gesturing to his state of dress.

"What are we supposed to do?" Jack asked, though he to suspected what was being asked of them.

"He assured us that you, his Liege, would pay us," a second skinnier man answered before Andy could say anything.

Jack heard Owen hiss out a curse behind him and he was inclined to agree with the older man.

"And who are you?" Jack asked glaring at the skinny man who was smirking at him as he played with his dagger.

"Peter, a humble pardoner and purveyor of religious relics."

"Well if that isn't the biggest crock of…."

"How much does he owe?" Jack asked, cutting Owen off with a glare.

"Ten gold florins," Peter replied smugly.

"You manky git!"Owen snapped stepping forward and in one fluid movement he had Andy in a headlock and was using him as a punching bag to take his anger out on.

"Ow! Damn! Get him off me!" Andy cried out, doing the best he could to block the attack

 

and protect his face.

"Owen, let him go!" Jack yelled, hoping to get through to the furious man as he and Rhys tried to pull them apart, much to the amusement of Peter and Simon.

Rhys held Owen back as Jack turned back to face Simon and Peter. "What would you do with him if I refused?"

Andy looked up at him as he uncurled from his previous position begging Jack with his eyes not to refuse.

"We, on behalf of the Lord God, will take it from his flesh so that he may understand; that gambling is a sin," Peter said poking a flinching Andy with his cane.

Jack stared at Andy as he weighed up their options, they could all try and make a run for it but who knew how many men these two had. There was also the issue of tournament security and the fact that they already needed to stay under the radar to avoid someone finding out their secret. There was only one real option really.

"Oh, come on. Please Ja…" Andy cut himself off as Peter and Simon looked up in suspicion, Andy cast an apologetic look at Jack for his near slip before continuing, "Please just this once, will you help me, Sir Ulrich?"

"I don't have the money," Jack replied, directing the answer in Peter's direction, watching out of the corner of his eye as Simon smirked viciously and Andy seemed to curl in on himself. "Release him and for God's sake give him back his clothes and you'll get your money."

Peter stared at him for a moment as if to ascertain whether he was telling the truth or not. "Done," he replied, snapping his fingers and a young boy appeared from nowhere carrying Andy's clothes and belongings.

"Now, my lord, we need a final word with Chaucer here so I suggest you get ready for the sword ring. You're jousting opponent has unfortunately felt the need to forfeit so you'd have time for your visit with us," Simons grinned, once again playing with his dagger.

Jack glanced at him and looked away, there was something very wrong with these two, there was no way they would be able to get out of paying him so he needed to win or they were going to be in a lot of trouble.


	7. Chapter 6

Standing on his pedestal, Hart watched the people moving around them while his squires fixed his armour in place. One of the squires pinched his leg hard while doing up the clip, kicking out he caught the man in the chin knocking him back.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the squire muttered, scurrying back to his previous position.

In the distance he saw a handsome, though decidedly poor looking knight heading across the field towards the sword arena, his squire safely in tow.

“Bilis.”

An older man nearby put down his quill and moved towards Hart. “Yes, my Lord?”

“That knight there, what badge is that?” Hart asked, gesturing to the shield of the  one who’d caught his attention.

Bilis pulled a rolled up scroll from his belt. “Triple Phoenix…” Bilis scanned the role for the information his master required. “Sir Ulrich del Immortalis, a Duke from Torchwood.”

Hart frowned in confusion, “Torchwood?”

“There used to be four Torchwood estates, Cardiff, London, Glasglow and one on the Isle of Man. The one on the Isle was destroyed in battle, the other three are still standing but I was under the impression that the family died in the battle on the Isle and the estates had become the King’s property. Apparently one child survived,” Bilis explained.

Hart tutted. “Poor bastard, must have very little of the family’s fortune remaining to be looking like that.”

“Indeed, he looks barely better than a peasant my lord,” Bilis smirked and Hart nodded smirking back at his old herald. The man had been his father’s first lieutenant and upon his father’s death had become his; there was no other man he trusted more.

“Make me aware if it looks like I’m going to face him.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
They were late as they walked towards the sword ring. They’d had plenty of time to prepare but he was still late because Owen had misplaced his sword. Apparently the jobs Jack used to do as a squire was often forgotten about by the other two.

Andy joined them as they made their way towards the arena.

“You lied to us,” Jack challenged, choosing not to comment on the new marks he spotted when Andy’s shirt had slipped up as he pulled on his coat.

“Yes, I lied. I’m a writer. I give the truth scope!” Andy said, arms spread wide as they walked down the street.

Finally they reached the sword arena and Andy stepped in front of them to do his job.

“Behold my Lord Ulrich del Immortalis, son of….”

“Too late!” the judge announced cutting him off.

“What?” Andy asked a little put off at being interrupted.

“You’re late, he’s already been announced,” the judge replied swinging open the gate.

“Fine,” Andy replied, stepping out of the way.

Rhys handed Jack his helmet. He slipped it on as he entered the ring and barely had time to latch it before his opponent swung.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Ianto’s eyes widened in surprise as his hunter walked into the arena. He’d come to see Sir Walter compete, the man was asking their father on about courting Rhiannon. Ianto had been sent by both Rhiannon and their father to see what the man was really like, hence why he was currently dressed in a squire’s cloak watching from the back of the crowd.

When he’d heard who Sir Walter was competing against he hadn’t recognized the name so it was certainly a pleasant surprise to see who walked into the arena.

Not so pleasant to see Sir Walter attack while Ulrich was still preparing and his back turned. The man was not getting anywhere near his sister.

With his job complete he turned his attention towards Ulrich. The man moved with an effortless flow, he allowed Sir Walter to land a few blows as he gauged the other man’s skill with a sword before attacking. Each blow was smooth and well aimed and before long Ulrich had Walter down and beaten.

“Yes!” Ulrich’s herald cheered, slipping under the rail he lifted his master arm high in the air. “Behold my Lord Ulrich! The rock! The hard place! Like a wind from Torchwood, he sweeps by! Blown far from his homeland in search of glory and honor! We walk in the garden of his turbulence!”

Ianto bit back a laugh as the arena fell deafly silent, no one understood what had just been said. Ulrich was giving his herald a long suffering look through the grate of his helmet and the two squires looked at each other in confusion.

  
Finally, Ianto decided to give them a hand by starting a cheer. Once he opened his mouth the others joined the cheer and soon the whole crowd was going wild for this new knight.

Ulrich cast a wide eyed look at the crowd around him as if he’d never been the centre of attention before and Ianto found the look rather… cute, for lack of a better word.

One of his squires stepped into the arena and whispered something in his ear. Tapping the herald on the shoulder, he signalled that they needed to leave.

Still grinning, the herald helped to push Ulrich through the crowd. “Do you want to touch him? Do you want to touch him?”

Ianto chuckled watching them go. “Yes, but all in good time,” he whispered and with one last look after his Hunter he headed back towards his sister.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Jack climbed down off his horse after his first jousting match the following day. He was doing well. So far he’d one all his jousting and had completely obliterated all his opponents in the sword arena. Competing in two major events however was wearing him out. At this rate he was likely to fall off his horse from fatigue, especially if the men he faced kept hitting like a hammer.

“Are you alright? That last blow sounded like it hurt,” Rhys asked as he and Owen walked up behind him.

“I’m fine, but we should have saved our last penny for the blacksmith,” Jack sighed turning around to the others who noticed the large crack in his chest plate.

“Bloody hell,” Owen swore, staring with wide eyes at the crack. He could only begin to imagine how hard the hit was to do that kind of damage and how it must have felt.

Rhys swore under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “We better go beg the smithies then,” he sighed, though they all knew how likely it was that they would find someone to do the work.

 

\----------------------------------

  
“I can’t pay you now but I promise I will, just as…”

“No! Money first!”

“Excuse me…”

“Cash first, no promises.”

“Excuse me, Sir.”

“No!”

  
Jack sighed walking out of the smithies still carrying his armour.

“No luck then,” Rhys noted dryly and Jack gave him an annoyed look.

“You might try the Ferris Sir,” one of the blacksmiths said as he came out to empty a bucket of water, that looked more like sludge than anything else.

The four men glanced over to where the blacksmith was pointing to. “A woman?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, my lord,” the blacksmith smirked before disappearing back into his tent.

“Thank you,” Jack snorted before turning and purposely striding towards the Ferris’ tent. Probably not his best move.

Looking up from the horse shoe she was cooling, she glared him down to a much less arrogant stance. “I don’t work for free,” she said before he could even ask and turned back to her work.

“I can’t joust with broken armour,” Jack replied, trying to reason with her, hoping that as a woman she might be a little more sympathetic.

“Not my problem. Each drop of this sweat has a price on it.”

Apparently not.

Jack groaned and went to walk away when an idea stuck him. Rhys seeing the look on his face sighed and shook his head, waiting for the disaster that he was sure was about to hit.

“Just as well, they said I was daft for even asking,” he said, making sure to study her reaction out of the corner of his eye. Her petite frame stiffened, and her slanted eyes narrowed even further.

“Who?” she demanded annoyed.

“Oh, the other armouries,” Jack replied innocently.

“Did they say I couldn’t do it because I’m a woman?” she asked, glaring in the direction of the other tent.

“Nooo, they said you were great with horseshoes but shite with armour. The fact that you’re a woman wasn’t even mentioned,” Jack replied.

Frowning in annoyance, the woman stepped forward and snatched the chest plate from Jack, holding it if front of her with a defiant look in her eyes. “You better pay me afterwards or I’ll set the tournament guards onto you, you hear me?”

“I promise, you’ll get your money. What’s your name?”

“Toshiko,” she replied, surprised that he had even bothered to ask.

“Thank you Toshiko, you don’t realize how much this means to me.”


	8. Chapter 7

Rhiannon and Gwen sat in the stands waiting for the latest jousting match to begin. Two knight’s rode past them, slowing to speak with Rhiannon, bowing low in their saddle as they promised to win the tournament for her.

“Getting sick of hearing hollow promises yet?” Gwen asked quietly from beside her as yet another knight passed them.

“Oh you have no idea…” Rhiannon replied under her breath. Spotting movement behind her mistress, she gestured for her to turn and face the old man who was standing there with a falcon perched on his arm, waiting for their attention.

He bowed low, the falcon spreading it’s wings to balance as it’s master’s arm moved. “May I present Count Hart, winner of the joust in France and champion at Saint-Emilion.”

“All forgotten when standing before the most beautiful woman in Christendom,” The man who spoke was shorter than her brother and though his body was slim it held enough strength to beat most men. Blonde hair and high cheek bones made him quiet attractive to the eye but there was something in his movement and nature which set Rhiannon on edge as he slipped into her brother’s vacant chair beside her.

“Do you only pretend to fight, Count Hart, or wage real war as well?” Rhiannon asked in disinterest as she scanned the crowds for either her brother or her cousin, either would be a big help right now.

“I am leader of the free companies. My army is in southern France,” Hart replied not even noticing Rhiannon’s disinterest.

Rhiannon caught sight of her brother with their cousin not far away from them as they talked to some noblemen. Managing to catch his eye she sent him a pleading look, gesturing to the man sitting beside her. Nodding in understanding he lent down to whisper in their cousin’s ear. Rhiannon sighed in relief knowing her brother would be here shortly.

“What do you think of the joust?” Hart asked.

“It’s very abrupt…” Rhiannon agreed, hoping to put the persistent knight off. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the rules, no matter how often my brother tries to explain them to me.”

“Then I shall educate you,” Hart replied, using this opportunity to move closer.

_Damn _

“A match is three lances. One point is given for breaking a lance between the waist and neck. Two points for breaking on the helmet. It’s difficult. The helmet sweeps back, most

  
blows glance off. Three points for bearing a rider to the ground. Also if you bear a rider to the ground you win his horse.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
Andy found Jack standing on the edge of the lists staring into the crowd. Following his ‘master’s’ gaze to where it was following a couple through the crowd. The woman was dressed in a fine silk dress and wearing a veil that suggested she was married and wished not to be viewed by the public when not with her husband. Which meant the man on her arms was either friend or relative of some kind. Why Jack’s attention was glued to them Andy could find only one reason.

“She is out of your reach and unavailable Jack.”

“She is not the one who interests me,” Jack replied before moving after the pair.

Andy watched him trail after the young man, his eyes flicking between the two, “Oh Jack, you do reach for those stars.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
Ianto jumped in surprise when he felt a strong hand slip into his and tug him gently into a dark corner under the seating stands. Fear ran through him for a moment before he spun around and came face to face with Ulrich.

“What are you doing?” Ianto asked, looking over his shoulder but Ulrich had chosen a safe place, no one could see them.

“I wanted to see you again,” Ulrich replied. a hand reaching up to brush gently down Ianto’s cheek.

“We have to be careful. Unless the King grants us permission, we cannot be seen in public together without risking arrest,” Ianto warned, yet leaned into Ulrich’s touch.

“We will be careful, but I do not want to stay away from you. I want to court you,” Ulrich replied.

“I want the same but…” Ianto sighed, they were both public figures, him with his family connections and Ulrich was quickly rising in popularity as his matches progressed.

“Cousin?! Where have you gone!” the gentle voice calling from outside made him jump and Ulrich looked down at him curiously.

“My cousin. We were on our way to save my sister from yet another suitor. My sister! I need you to court my sister,” Ianto announced, an idea forming in his mind.

Ulrich stared at him in shock, “What? You want me to what?”

“We use my sister as a go between, a messenger of sorts. I’ll talk to her, I know she’ll agree as it should keep any possible suitor’s off her tail for a while because to the public it will look

like you are courting her but whatever she says to you will be from me. I’ll make sure I’m with her as often as possible so I’ll hear what you say to her and know it is meant for me,” Ianto quickly explained, as his cousin’s calls grew closer and more annoyed.

“It could work but…” Ulrich began.

“It will have to work for now, I have to go,” Ianto said and with a burst of courage he lent forward and pressed his lips to Ulrich’s. He had meant for it to be a quick kiss but Ulrich pulled him closer and deepened the kiss.

“IANTO!!”

His cousin’s voice, close to the entrance had them both jumping apart in shock and before Ulrich could react Ianto was slipping out of his reach and heading for the way out.

“Wait, your name? Ianto?” Ulrich asked, catching Ianto’s hand once more.

“Ianto Jones,” Ianto replied.

“My name is J....”

“Sir Ulrich del Immortalis,” Ianto smiled and with one final squeeze of his hand he turned and headed back out onto the main street, missing the almost pained look on Ulrich’s face as he left.

“It’s about time, Rhiannon is going to be furious with us for taking so long,” his cousin growled. He may not have been able to see her face clearly but her body language showed nothing but amusement as she rocked on her heals.

“Then we better hurry,” Ianto replied, offering her his arm which she gladly accepted and they continued on their way. Ianto noticed his cousin was watching over her shoulder as they walked and looking back he saw Ulrich slip from the hiding place and head back towards the lists.

Stiffening, he realised that she knew and he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to react.

“He’s handsome.”

Ianto stared at her in surprise, unable to come up with a response to her simple acceptance.

“If he’ll make you happy, I’m happy for you.”

“I think he might Rosie, I just think he might.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
Hart continued his attempted conquest as Ianto and Rose had still yet to get there. Rhiannon was about ready to kill them for taking so long. Gwen, who still sat beside her was getting really uncomfortable with Hart’s constant staring.

  
“Sister dear, I’m sorry we took so long. I needed to speak to a friend before he left the city.” Ianto’s voice was a welcome relief and she stood, turning to face her brother and cousin as they walked towards their seats.

Ianto stood expectantly at the end of their row, his height and build intimidating. Even though he was not wearing armour or knight’s garbs, he still held himself like a warrior.

Hart stood to face the younger man smirking arrogantly.“Count Jonathon Hart.”

Ianto’s face fell into a mask before he introduced himself, “General Ianto Gelthin Jones.”

Rhiannon’s eyes widened in surprise, she rarely heard her brother use his military title; usually he introduced himself as Lord Jones, the title he gained from their father. She wasn’t surprised to see Hart drop into a bow before him, though it wasn’t much of a surprise, her brother’s achievements were well known in the military.

Ianto nodded in response to the bow before guiding Rose into the seat on the other side of Rhiannon, where Gwen had just moved from. Gwen now sat one seat down and she seemed quite relieved that she was out of Bilis’ sight. Hart stepped out of the way so Ianto could take his seat beside Rhiannon.

Rhiannon watched the way Hart observed her brother, there was a hint of caution in his eyes but mostly there was envy and curiosity. Those who met her brother when he was not in uniform found it hard to connect the two identities. The one she spent all her time with was fun and caring. When he was in uniform and leading their cousin-in-laws army he slipped behind a cold mask so he could do his job.

Bilis stepped forward and spoke to his master in hushed tones. Seeing they were distracted, Ianto leant forward to whisper in her ear. He quickly told her about Ulrich and their plan to court.

“Will you do it? Will you help me?” Ianto asked, ducking his head so his eyes locked with hers.

“Of course I will,” Rhiannon promised, pressing a kiss to her brother’s cheek. He did so much for her and now she could do something in return. She heard Rose bite back an excited squeal next to her and realised their cousin was already aware of what was happening.

“Your name, lady, I still need to hear it.” They looked up at the sound of a voice below them. Looking down they spotted their hunter in full armour sitting astride his horse ready for the next match.

“Sir Hunter you persist,” Rhiannon replied, sitting forward so she could see him better, her brother certainly had good taste.

“Prehaps the Welsh have no names, only beautiful voices,” Ulrich replied smoothly, the words directed at Rhiannon, though his eyes were focused just past her.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at her brother who was smiling happily back at her, a slight tint to his cheeks that only she and Rose would notice.

Yes, this might just work.


	9. Chapter 8

“... the second son of Sir Wallace Percival, third Earl of Warwick. My lords, my ladies, it is with honour I introduce my liege; Sir Thomas Colville.” Colville’s herald bowed and moved out of the way as Ulrich’s made his way onto the field.

“You’re good, you’re very good,” Ulrich’s herald said with a smile as he took his place. With a deep breath he turned to face the crowd. “My lords, my ladies... and everybody else here not sitting on a cushion...” Cheers erupted around the arena though several of the nobles frowned in annoyance.

“...today... you find yourselves equals. For you are all equally blessed. For I have the pride, the privilege, nay the pleasure of introducing to you a knight sired by knights. A knight who can trace his lineage back beyond Charlemagne. I first met him atop of mountain near Jerusalem, praying to god, asking his forgiveness for the Saracen blood spilt by his sword. Next he amazed me still further in Italy, when he saved a fatherless beauty from the would-be ravishing of her dreadful uncle. In Greece he spent a year in silence just to better understand the sound of a whisper... So without further gilding the lily and with no more ado, I give to you the seeker of Serenity, the protector of Italian virginity, the enforcer of our Lord God, the one, the only, Sir Ulrich del Immortalis!” As the herald finished the crowd went crazy. He beamed up at them “Thank you! Thank you! I’ll be here all week.”

“Well that was interesting,” Rose giggled.

“He’s certainly an entertainer,” Rhiannon agreed.

Ianto only nodded, his eyes trained on the field before him as Ulrich and Colville lined their horses up to the lists. The flags dropped and the horses carrying their masters charged along the lists towards each other. Lance’s dropped as the knight’s took aim. Ulrich’s lance connected with Colville’s chest and Colville’s glanced off Ulrich’s shoulder. Dropping the remaining pieces of the lance, they moved back to their ends, stopping in the middle for a quick word before preparing for their next run.

“Colville has perfect technique. I’ve never seen him before,” Hart mused, talking to Bilis but loud enough that the rest of them could hear him.

“Nor I,” Bilis agreed, glancing between the knight’s on the field and the scroll in his hands, his falcon was now perched on the railing before them.

“But this Immortalis... his technique is rudimentary. Style, non-existent, still he’s fearless.” Hart’s voice was full of consideration and Ianto knew he was assessing just how much of a challenge Ulrich was going to be.

“Fearless? How so?” Rhiannon asked curiously.

“The slit in the visor is narrow, but splinter can penetrate it. Most knights raise their chins at the last instant. You lose sight of your opponent, but protect your eyes. Ulrich doesn’t,” Ianto explained, surprising Hart by knowing what the man was referring to.

“He keeps his eyes on the target. A true hunter,” Rhiannon said, sharing a secretive smile with Rose.

The smiles dropped however as they watched what happened next in the arena.

“A draw. Colville withdraws, he’s hurt. Ulrich advances,” Ianto explained to the confused looking girls beside him.

“Why didn’t Ulrich finish him?” Bilis asked confused.

“He shows mercy,” Rose said, both impressed and relieved.

“Then he shows his weakness, that’s all mercy is,” Hart snorted.

“A man who can show mercy when it’s called for is a great man and one I would gladly have serving with me,” Ianto replied, making sure to keep his voice neutral instead of defensive like he felt. Standing, he held his hand out to the two women beside him. “Now if you’ll excuse us Count, I need to be returning my cousin to her husband.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
Owen, Rhys, Andy and Jack were stretched out of the blankets covering one side of their tent. Andy and Owen were snoring away and had somehow managed to wrap themselves around each other. Jack stared at the ceiling occasionally, shifting to try and keep comfortable. Rhys who was a much lighter sleeper, woke from Jack’s fidgeting.

“For the love of Victory, Jack, go to sleep!” Rhys groaned, sitting up and glaring at his friend.

“I can’t. Love has given me wings, so I must fly. I can’t explain it,”  Jack replied, rolling onto his side so he could face Rhys who was now staring at him as if he’d just grown a second head. Jack knew he was acting out of character but he couldn’t help it after the progress he’d made with Ianto today. “He makes me feel like a poet.”

“You may feel like a poet, but you sound like an idiot,” Rhys offered, flopping back onto the blankets. “You don’t even know who he is.”

“He, is Ianto Jones,” Jack replied with a shrug.

“But who is he? What kind of nobleman? A warrior, a knight, or one who runs a household and stays home with his missus?” Rhys pushed.

“What does it matter Rhys?”  Jack grumbled.

“Love weakens the heart. Without your heart, you cannot win.”

“But...”

“Sleep Jack.”

Owen sat up with a start, some woman’s name spilling out of his mouth in a garbled rush. Realising there was something around his waist he looked down to spot Andy’s arm. With a cry of shock he threw it off him and scrambled back away. Andy sat up confused only to have Owen’s arm catch him in the chin.

 

\----------------------------------

  
“Count Hart sends word. He says he will win this tournament for you,” Gwen said, walking into Rhiannon’s room with a fresh vase of flowers.

“He’s won many, he wins them for himself and his own honour, it’s nothing to say he wins them for me,” Rhiannon retorted.

“He wishes to speak to you again,” Gwen added, knowing well the reaction she would get from her mistress.

“Not to hear a word I say. He wants his women silent and I refuse to be so.”

Gwen walked over and began brushing Rhiannon’s long hair for her. “Your cousin sent a message for you also, she wished to let you know that her husband is recovering well from his match yesterday.”

“Oh I am glad, she was so worried about poor John,” Rhiannon replied, turning when a knock sounded at her door. “Enter.”

The door opened and Ianto entered. Gwen gave a small bow of her head in acknowledgement but other than that she continued what she was doing.

“Ianto, have you heard from Ulrich this morning?” Rhiannon asked eagerly.

“It is only early Rhi, he will be getting ready for the days competitions,” Ianto said with a fond chuckle, taking a seat on the trunk at the foot of her bed.

“It hasn’t stopped Count Hart from sending a message this morning,” Rhiannon snorted.

“Perhaps, but Ulrich is not trying to win my attention, he already has it,” Ianto shrugged, Gwen’s amused giggle and Rhiannon’s eye roll and smile made him grin in a way that she hadn’t seen her brother grin in years and in that moment Rhiannon knew she would do anything to help her brother and Ulrich be together.

 

\----------------------------------

  
“Hart, Hart, Hart, Hart, Hart, Hart.”

Hart entered the arena on his black stallion, the horse’s armour black and sharp, just like its masters.

“Oh lovely,” Owen remarked sarcastically as they watched the display the other knight put on.

  
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hart lose,” Jack said, remembering back to when he’d been in the service of Sir Ector and had watched the jousts from the sidelines.

“No, but defeat him and you’ll see it first hand,” Rhys replied, handing him his helmet and gesturing for him to get on Janet.

“Sir Ulrich,” came a tentative call.

Realising Jack was too distracted to respond to his second name Andy gently elbowed him in the side. “My liege, you have a visitor.”

Looking up Jack smiled at the Rhiannon’s maid trying to remember her name. “Gwen, wasn’t it?” he asked tentatively.

Gwen blushed prettily and nodded. “Yes sir, my lady bids you wear this token,” she replied, holding out a piece of red silk material.

Jack took it carefully, not quite sure whether to be excited or not, he knew it was likely Ianto speaking through his sister and the main but a woman’s scarf? Handkerchief? “Of course,” Jack said, taking the scarf.

Gwen curtsied and turned to leave, “Au revoir.”

“Au revoir,” Andy replied with a nod of his head.

“That’s a bit kinky isn’t it? The sister gives you one of her scarves?” Owen said, peaking over Jack’s shoulder at the material he was holding.

“I don’t know... it’s an odd shape and it smells of him,” Jack replied, fingering the material.

Rhys, who had been staring after Gwen tuned into the conversation once she was out of sight and took the material from Jack. Holding it up, he quickly examined the shape, folding it once or twice before nodding in confirmation to himself. “It’s one of his cravats that’s been completely unpicked to make it look like a woman’s accessory.”

Jack grinned as he took the material back, scanning the crowds until he spotted Gwen taking a seat beside Rhiannon and sitting beside his sister was Ianto.

“There you go, head in the clouds. You have your token, now concentrate and get on the horse,” Rhys said, gently pushing Jack in the direction of the mounting block.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Rhys, Owen and Andy ran to Jack’s side where he was bent over Janet’s neck slightly in pain. It was only the first lance against Hart, if Jack was hurt already there was no hope of winning this.

“I can't breathe. He hits like a hammer. Amazing,” Jack gasped out slowly, sitting up in the saddle, looking down at Rhys who walked beside him. Owen fetched another lance and Andy led Janet into position for the next run.

“But not perfect. He aims high. Roll your shoulder back, his blow may go right,” Rhys said, demonstrating the movement as he explained to make sure Jack understood what he was saying.

“But if he strikes to my left, I'll be obliterated,” Jack replied, taking the new lance that Owen handed to him.

“I didn't say it wasn't a gamble,” Rhys shrugged apologetically.

“Are you fit to continue?” Andy asked, seeing Jack wince a little as he straightened his ribs.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good luck.”

Rhys’ advice paid off and Hart’s next lance missed entirely as Jack’s slammed into his chest, making Hart furious. He jumped the final flag and came tearing down the lists towards Jack who urged Janet into a quick gallop and made his own charge. He caught sight of the dangerous glint in Hart’s eyes seconds before the other man lifted his lance that little bit higher to collide with Jack’s head.

Blinding pain hit Jack in the face as the blow literally tore the helmet from his head, he only managed to stay on Janet’s back by sheer force of will. If they lost her they’d be horseless and he’d be unable to compete. Slumping forward against her neck, he closed his eyes tight and willed the dizziness to fade enough for the world to stop spinning. Hearing running footsteps and then worried voices he managed to crack an eye open to see the others around him.

“Jesus, are you ok? Do you want me to fetch the surgeon?” Rhys asked, the worried big brother slipping out.

“I’ll be ok, I’ll be ok,” Jack whispered back and managed to push himself at least semi-upright in the saddle.

Hearing a horse approach from behind, Jack saw Hart use his broken lance to pick up Ianto’s cravat where it rested in the sand beside his helmet. "Gain more bearing, Ulrich. See me again when you're worthy,” Hart sneered before moving off towards where Rhiannon sat in the stands.

Glaring after him Owen went to jump the fence and go after Hart. “I’ll fong you, you son of a...” Before he could make it over, Andy grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back down.

“You bastard! Why did you stop me!” Owen hissed, turning on Andy.

“Because Ulrich needs us more!” Andy said, gesturing to where Rhys was trying to lead Janet off the field, from the side so he could catch Jack should he begin to fall.

“Shit!” Owen swore, running to the other side of Jack in case he began to fall away from Rhys.

“Well done, my lord. A noble victory,” Andy announced, his voice full of false politeness, some things needed to be said to keep the tournament niceties, even when they weren’t deserved.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Hart reached the stands and used his lance to pass the material back to Rhiannon. “My lady, I believe this is yours,” he said, a small smirk turning the corner of his mouth.

Rhiannon pulled the material off the lance and with a glare she turned and left the stand with Gwen following behind her.

Ianto also glared down at the man. Hart assumed it was for angering his sister. But it was not, his sister was mad for the same reason as he, for Hart’s dirty tricks in the arena and hurting Ulrich. Hart stared back coolly for a while, but Ianto didn’t back down or ease off.

It didn’t take long for Hart to bow his head slightly, turn and back down.

 


	10. Chapter 9

The King of Arms stood in front of the winning knights, announcing the winners to the crowd. “For long spear on foot, Pandolfo Malatesta. For sword on foot, Ulrich del Immortalis.” Jack stepped forward as bowed low as he accepted his prize, a gold statue of a knight on a horse. “Finally, for the mounted joust and tournament champion Hart, Count of Anjou.”

Jack gritted his teeth as the crowd chanted for the other knight, “Hart! Hart! Hart! Hart! Hart!”

“I present to you your champions,” the king of arms announced, signalling the end of the presentations. The winning knight’s turned and stood smiling and waving to the crowd.

“Next time, you will look up at me from the flat of your back,” Jack promised Hart, in a low voice so they couldn’t be overheard by anyone else nearby.

“Please. You have been weighed, you have been measured and you have been found wanting,” Hart replied and with a smirk he was gone, striding across the arena back towards his men who were waiting on the sidelines.  

Jack turned in the opposite direction and headed towards the others who were waiting eagerly for him. Jack walked over and tossed the crowd he tossed the prize to Rhys as soon as they were out of sight.

“If you keep winning the sword, we’ll be set!” Owen grinned, slapping Jack on the back.

“I won't compete in it,” Jack announced as he stripped his armour and piled it into the corner of the tent before flopping down onto their rugs.

“Why quit the sword? It's your best,” Rhys asked, sharing confused looks between the others.

“No. It’s tournament champion or nothing at all,” Jack snapped. He would defeat Hart and if that meant he had to give up the sword so he could focus more on the joust. So be it.

 

\----------------------------------

 

“Ten florins. That should do,” Jack said to Simon as he used an axe to break a piece off the gold statue.

“Sixes and sevens tonight, Chaucer. Do you feel lucky?” Peter smirked in Andy’s direction.

“Have you enough clothes?” Simon added as they made to leave.

“Be gone. I'm done with you,” Andy said, shaking his head. “Except to exact my revenge.”

Simon and Peter stopped and turned in unison to glare at Andy. “What on earth could you possibly do to us?” Peter scoffed.

“I will eviscerate you in fiction,” Andy replied. Jack and Rhys shared a slightly worried look while Owen once again looked like he wanted to thump their skinny companion. “Every last pimple, every last character flaw. I was naked for a day. You will be naked for eternity.”

Simon laughed, a rather creepy wheezing sound, Peter just gave Andy an amused look. “I have a feeling we shall meet again.”

Once the two men were gone they turned to where Toshiko was waiting for them and waved her over.

“Here, Farris, take what we owe you,” Jack said passing the statue to the her. Jack watched her curiously as she stared down at the statue in her hands lost in thought.

“The armour you wear, it wasn't made for you, was it?” Toshiko finally asked and the question threw Jack of guard. Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it wasn’t that.

“So, what of it?”

“I could make armour you wouldn't even know you wore it,” Toshiko said, her eyes almost glowing at the prospect of the task.

“What's the cost?” Rhys asked curiously, knowing that because the armour didn’t fit properly it wasn’t actually protecting Jack very well.

“Just take me as far as Paris,” Toshiko shrugged, knowing it was a good deal. It would cost them nothing to let her ride with them and in return she would save money and have the added benefit of protection. What she didn’t expect was the answer.

“We travel alone. Take your gold and go,” Jack replied defensively, not willing to risk another person travelling with them, especially one that didn’t know their secret. Toshiko’s eyes narrowed in anger, and then brought the back half down of the statue down on the side of the wagon breaking the head of the horse. Throwing it back at Jack she turned and stalked off.

Jack watched her go and felt a little guilty; he really could have handled that better. Sighing, he turned and passed what was left of the statue to Rhys. “Get what you can out of that. Let's pack.”

“Why are we leaving so soon?” Owen asked confused. He didn’t move to help as he watched from his position perched on a nearby barrel while Jack began to pack up their wagon.

“The next tournament is in a week. We can walk now and save Janet,” Jack explained, proving loading the extra weight of Janet’s saddle into their wagon.

  
“You must go to the banquet. You'll dance and make an appearance,” Andy said, taking the saddle back out of the wagon.

“Let Hart laugh at me again? No!” Jack said as he went to place the saddle back in the wagon.

“Yes!” Andy grabbed the saddle again as Jack tried to pass him with it.

“No!” Jack growled trying to snatch the saddle back. A throat clearing broke up their argument.

Both men turned to find Rhys looking at them with a tried expression as Gwen stood beside him trying to cover up her giggle.

“My lady would know the colour of your lord's tunic tonight,” Gwen said, directing her question to Andy as his herald, though her eyes were drifting to the man standing beside her.

“His tunic?” Andy asked, floored for a moment after their abruptly interrupted fight.

 “Yes, so she can dress to match him,” Gwen coaxed with a smile.

“Ah… we regret to inform your lady he won't be attending…” Andy began to explain when Jack’s brain kicked into gear and he interrupted.

“Herald, do not give my answers!”

“Yes, my lord,” Andy replied with a bow that was only slightly mocking he turned back to the wagon so no one else could see the smile he was wearing. Trust Jack’s heart to drag him around.

Jack floundered for a moment not sure what to say and finally he turned to Rhys for help. “Squire, answer her… what colour is my tunic tonight?”

Gwen turned to face Rhys so she missed the pleading look Jack threw to his friend. Owen tried very hard to not to laugh, still perched on his barrel eating an apple.

“Green…trimmed in a kind of...pale green...with...uh, wooden toggles,” Rhys explained, the others frowning in confusion. Jack had nothing like that to wear. Their eyes followed Rhys’ gaze to the tent behind Gwen in the exact same colours he’d just described.

“I will tell my lady,” Gwen replied with a polite smile and a curtsy she was gone.

“This is a disaster!” Jack groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“No, it'll tunic up quite nicely. Pass us your dagger Owen,” Rhys said, holding out the material from the tent to get a better look at it.

Owen laughed so hard he almost choked on his apple as he passed the dagger to Rhys.

“That's not a disaster, Rhys,” Jack replied. “I don't know how to dance.”

  


\----------------------------------

  
Rhys watched the disaster before him as he sewed the new tunic for Jack to wear tonight. Andy was standing tapping a stick on the ground to form a beat as he tried to teach Owen and Jack how to dance.

Looking down at his work again he listened to Andy’s instructions, peppered with Jack and Owen’s bickering.

“And one and two and three and four. Your hand should be light, like a birdie on a branch. And one, two and three and four. And Owen doesn't lead, he follows like a girl.”

Rhys looked up in time to see Owen’s fist lash out and catch Andy in the nose. At this rate they would be at this all night.

\----

Rhys heard a sound at the barn door and glanced over his shoulder, Toshiko was carrying some supplies in to store for the night.

Rhys was about to warn the others they had company before they said something she shouldn’t hear but after watching them briefly in amusement she headed out again. Rhys went back to his work, listening again to the lessons in case he needed to step in and help Jack break up another fight.

Andy had pieces of cloth stuffed up his nose to stop the bleeding, making his voice nasally as he continued to instruct them. “And one and two and twirly, twirly, twirly. And one and two, and you're still getting it wrong. And one and two and three and four. You can hit me all day because you punch like a what?”

Rhys listened to Andy once again goad Owen and deciding Andy was asking for it again he jumped in with the answer, “A girl.”  
Owen lashed out at Andy again but this time Jack was ready and caught Owen mid lunge.

Rhys had to admit that all the training they’d put Jack through to make him fit for competition had turned him from a scrawny beggar to a fit young man. It took him very little effort to pull the struggling Englishman away from the mouthy herald.

“Enough! Get back Owen! Andy, quiet!” Jack ordered and not for the first time, he sounded like the knight he was pretending to be.

A low whistle from the doorway caught everyone’s attention and they turned to see Toshiko standing in the doorway with a new pile of equipment.

“Oh, and you can do better?” Andy quipped, glaring at the amused Farris.

“Of course I can,” Tosh replied, placing her load in the pile with the stuff she’d brought in earlier.

“Then show us,” Jack replied so abruptly it almost sounded like and order.

Toshiko pretended to think about it for a moment, “No.”

“If I'm making all this effort, you'd best ask her nicely,” Rhys said, glaring coolly at Jack. The lessons were a disaster so far and they needed help. If Jack wanted to impress Ianto, he had to calm down and think before opening his mouth again.

Jack stared at Rhys for a moment as if reading the older man’s mind. Taking a deep breath to calm what was left of his temper he turned to Tosh and gave her a gentle pleading look. “I'm sorry, Toshiko. I was wondering if you'd care to show us how to dance.”

“Please,” Rhys reminded him.

“Please,” Jack added quickly.

Toshiko stayed silent for a moment. “It’s Tosh,” she said before extending her arm out in the dance position for Jack to take.

Jack smiled as he took her hand. “Thank you, Tosh.”

 


	11. Chapter 10

Jack walked to the banquet, having decided to leave Janet behind for a rest, when a large coach pulled by a pair of white Arabians stopped beside him.

“Care for a ride my lord?” Rhiannon’s voice broke into his thoughts as the noblewoman leaned out of the coach window to address him.

Jack’s eyes widened in surprise before his brain caught up with the rest of him and he dropped into a bow. “Thank you, yes milady.” It was only another few metres on foot and there was no need at all for the ride but he knew who was likely inside though, and knowing the coach had to go around the tents to reached the banquet they would have a little time to talk before they had to go back to pretending.

Climbing into the coach, he was greeted by the sight of Ianto in a dark forest green tunic. Rhiannon and their cousin, who was also in the coach, were dressed in shades of green as well but it was Ianto who drew his attention.

“Sir Ulrich, you look fantastic,” Ianto smiled, his voice deepening slightly as he took in just how good Jack looked sitting beside him.

Jack cast a worried look at the other woman sitting beside Rhiannon, their cousin if he remembered rightly.

“Oh, no need to worry about me my lord,” she said with a smile.

Ianto slipped his hand into Jack’s. “Rose knows about us, she’s come to help Rhiannon pose as our dates so we’re mostly left alone this evening,” Ianto explained.

Jack relaxed, turned towards Ianto and with that movement it was as if the girls were no longer sitting opposite them. “Ianto, you look… Uh, you remind me of the Bible…” Jack began, knowing what he wanted to say but not sure how to explain he went ahead anyway and hoped Ianto understood what he meant. “When God stopped the sun to give Joshua time to defeat the Amorites.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow in question, he knew the part of the bible Jack was speaking of but he didn’t understand the reference.

“If I could ask God one thing, it would be to stop the moon. Stop the moon and make this night and us last forever,” Jack finished explaining and watched happily as first a blush, then a brilliant smile spread across Ianto’s face along with the soft ‘awws’ from the women.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Tosh wiped the sweat from her brow as she placed the metal back into the heath and

  
watched it warm. When the timing was right, she pulled it from the heat and placed it on the anvil to beat the metal into shape. Working steadily, she didn’t see the slim figure standing in her doorway watching her intently as she worked.

Once she was satisfied with the shape, she cooled the metal and placed it with her already finished pieces. Looking at the pile it was easy to see the pieces of a suit or armour gathering.

The figure in the doorway placed an apple beside her water pitcher and with one last fond look slipped unnoticed back into the night.

 

\----------------------------------

  
“What dance will you have? A coranto? Or a basse dance?” The master of ceremonies stood in the centre of the room addressing the couples standing ready to dance. Amongst them were Jack and Rhiannon, Ianto and Rose.

“Sir Ulrich. Why don't you show us a dance of your land? Show us a dance of Torchwood,” Hart called from the head table, where as the champion he had spent the evening and the others had spent avoiding.

“Yes. If you please, my lord,” the master of ceremonies smiled, gesturing for Jack to step forward and demonstrate to them.

Jack mentally cursed Hart, the man was going to embarrass him once more. “Well, it's a lot like the Farandole ...but with some differences.” Jack began ringing his hands slightly and deliberately not looking at Ianto for fear the other man would see right through him.

Jack walked though the step of the Farandole, making sure to change some steps to make it seem different. He thought was doing well until a few of the women began to giggle, which broke his concentration and he found himself at a loss for what to do next.

Ianto seeing the problem took both girls hands and spun them onto the floor. Rhiannon reached Jack, stepping in front of him she quickly clapped and stepped to her left bringing them back into the starting position.

Jack looked to his side to find Ianto to his right, he and Rose perfectly mirroring him and Rhiannon. Jack gave Ianto a look of gratitude which was missed by the others as everyone got into position to join the dance.

The night progressed with them all dancing and laughing, Jack and Ianto dancing with both girls until they all gave into exhaustion and returned to their table where the rest of the night was filled with lively conversations and laughter.

 

\----------------------------------

  
It was only Rose who kept tabs on Hart, knowing the man could easily become a problem for them all. She watched him steadily get more aggravated before leaving the banquet, glowering at them the whole way out. His departure left her relieved that there was no longer a need to worry. His reaction to them, particularly Ulrich, however, was troubling and she knew that with a man like him it was far from over, he would cause problem for them in the future.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Tosh stood before Ulrich with her arms crossed in annoyance as he looked down in doubt at the new armour he wore .“What?” she finally demanded when he said nothing.

“I don't know. Too small, too light.” Ulrich said, staring at the armour as if he was afraid to look up at her.

“He'll be crushed. Killed,” Owen clarified, looking apologetic as Tosh threw a glare in his direction.

“No. I found a new way to heat steel. It's thinner, smaller but just as strong…” Tosh explained. The men still looked skeptical and Tosh sighed in annoyance. “Twist and bend. Feel the movement.”

Ulrich did as he was told. “But eventually I will be struck.”

“Do you at least have the courage to test it?” Tosh challenged and Ulrich finally looked up to meet her in the eyes. Receiving a nod in agreement, Tosh pushed Ulrich so he stood in front of a pulled beam that was often used to assist in loading heavy objects into wagons.

After a quick bit of organizing, Tosh had Owen, Andy and Rhys ran along pushing the beam and with one final shove, they released it and it slammed into Ulrich chest, knocking him back into the hay behind him.

Grabbing the beam as it began to swing back, Tosh watched as Rhys and Andy scrambled forward to check on their lord. “Are you okay?” Rhys asked.

Ulrich looked up before turning to grin at Tosh. “I didn't feel a thing.”

Andy and Rhys pulled Ulrich to his feet and the knight moved to stand in front of Tosh. “You still wish to travel with us?”

Tosh nodded her head, Ulrich glanced between his men before smiling down at her. “Well in that case there’s a few things you need to know. For starters, my name is Jack, not Ulrich.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
It had taken them most of the morning but they finally had Tosh up to speed on things and after the revelation she still agreed to travel with them and help them out. It didn’t take them long to learn she had a keen eye for knight’s technique while he jousted, something she’d learnt from her late husband.

When Jack wasn’t competing, they spent their time in the lists, studying the other knights.

Finally it was Hart’s turn.

“Watch every move Hart makes. We'll find a weakness,” Rhys said, Tosh nodding in agreement.

  
“Well, Colville looks fit. It should be good,” Jack replied, gesturing to Hart’s opponent.

Jack was just turning back to look at Hart when Bilis rushed forward and covered Hart’s shield with the flag.

“Hart withdrew?” Jack asked in shock, ducking under the railing to get a better look at his rival who was sitting proudly on his black horse. There didn’t look to be anything wrong with him.

“To withdraw like that means one thing…” Andy said coming up beside Jack as they both turned to face Coleville.

“Royalty,” Jack said, finishing Andy’s sentence as Colville acknowledged Hart’s move with a nod of his head before turning his horse and heading back into the knight’s area behind.

Jack and Andy ducked back under the railings to join the others. “I'll see what I can find out,” Andy said before slipping away into the crowds.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Jack sat atop Janet ready to joust; they had not seen Andy since Hart and Coleville’s aborted match. They still knew nothing of the circumstances surrounding the withdrawal and of course, Colville was his current opponent.

Their attention was drawn to a commotion over by the starting flag as Andy argued with the king of arms.

With an angry gesture from the king of arms Andy ran over to them.

“Colville is Jonathon, the oncoming storm, Prince John, future king of England,” Andy said out of breath when he reached them.

“He's in disguise like me so he can compete,” Jack said, staring through the slit in his visor at Colville, Prince John, who was busy talking to his herald.

“He's never met an enemy without victory or town he couldn't defeat,” Andy continued, trying to get his point across when he realized Jack wasn’t really paying attention to him.

“We know who he is!” Owen snapped in annoyance.

“You must withdraw,” Rhys said to Jack before turning to their herald, “Tell them, Andy.”

Andy scampered off to do just that and Rhys reached up to take the lance back from Jack.

“Give me the lance,” Rhys prompted when Jack didn’t comply.

Andy had reached the podium, taking the flag he draped it over their shield to signal their forfeit.

The crowd led out an annoyed groan and Colville looked on in disappointment as he realised

his secret was out.

In that second Jack made his decision, kicking Janet forward the horse threw herself into a charge. The crowd cheered, Colville’s eyes lit up as he reached for his own lance and began his charge.

“Oh, my giddy aunt,” Rhys groaned covering his eyes.

Andy stepped in front of Janet as Jack made his way back to his end of the field. “You mad? You endanger a royal family member!”

“He endangers himself,” Jack countered, looking up as Colville pulled his horse to a stop on the opposite side of the railing.

“Well fought, Sir Ulrich, as in Rouen,” Colville nodded, opening his visor, such a small gap that it was easy not to see the real man hidden beneath.

“You also, Prince John,” Jack replied, bowing in the saddle to the man before him.

Colville smirked removing his helmet to the gasps of the crowd, “You knew me?”

“Yeah,” Jack nodded.

“And still you rode?” Colville smiled, a small challenge flaring in his eyes.

“It's not in me to withdraw,” Jack replied, tipping his head respectfully.

“No. Nor me. Though it happens,” Colville sighed, staring around the arena. His secret was out, there was no way he’d be able to continue competing now.

“Yes, it does,” Jack said and for a moment he felt bad for his Prince. He didn’t know what he’d do if he could no longer compete and it was clear by the look in the royals eyes that he loved the competition just as much.

“Good luck to you,” Colville said, nodding respectfully to the knight who was brave enough to give him one last run.

“You also, my Prince.”


	12. Chapter 11

Ianto smiled at his cousin as she joined them in the stands.

“Is John alright?” Rhiannon asked, concerned for their cousin-in-law.

“He’s fine, disappointed, but fine. He loved competing, it will be months before he can try a new disguise,” Rose replied, eyes trained on the awards presentation beginning in the arena.

“You’re a little glad though,” Ianto noticed.

“No matter how much the sport means to him, I don’t like seeing the man I love get hurt, do you?” Rose replied, turning her attention to Ianto.

Ianto didn’t reply as his own attention was drawn to the arena.

“The winner of the mounted joust and tournament champion… Ulrich del Immortalis.”

After seeing Ulrich receive his prize and leave the arena , Ianto moved out of the stands to greet him.

 

\----------------------------------

  
“Melt it, sell it, do whatever you do,” Jack growled, throwing the prize at Owen when he reached the others.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Owen snorted with a sarcastic bow.

“You're champion!” Rhys grinned, trying to lighten the mood before any punches were thrown.

“I'm not champion until I defeat Hart. He withdrew and now he’s been called back to the free companies, who knows when I’ll next face him!” Jack snapped back.

“Sir Ulrich?”

Jack faltered hearing that voice, turning he found Ianto standing on the other side of the railing’s watching him curiously.

“My sister wishes to know what you’ll wear tonight to the banquet.”

Jack gritted his teeth. The mood he was in he didn’t want to be playing this charade, he wanted to be able to talk to his love. “Nothing.”

“Well that will cause a sensation if she dresses to match,” Ianto smiled, trying to cheer up the other man; unfortunately it was having the opposite effect.

“Don't you get tired of dressing up and pretending?” Jack growled.

“Excuse me?” Ianto replied, his own annoyance beginning to stir at Jack’s behaviour.

“You spend your time dressed up, talking and pretending, parading around your sister like she’s some sort of… exotic flower for the picking.”

“A flower she may be but one with thorns I assure you.”

“You're just a silly boy with a carriage and a flower, aren't you?” Jack growled, letting all of his frustration out on the person who deserved it least of all.

Ianto stared at him in shock for a moment before carefully giving his cool reply, “Better a silly boy with a flower than a silly boy with a horse and stick.”

“It’s called a ‘lance’, Lord boy... hello!” Owen remarked sarcastically.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Jack looked up in surprise as a hooded figure walked into his tent. The other’s had vanished down to the pub leaving him and his mood alone to wallow. The figure lifted its hood to reveal Rhiannon Jones in all her cold fury.

“Rhiannon, I really don’t have time…” Jack began but she wouldn’t hear it.

“Then I suggest you make the time, Sir Ulrich, there’s something you need to see,” she glared at him before flicking her hood back up and stepping back out of the tent.

Jack sat there stunned for a moment before scrambling out into the afternoon sun behind her.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Rhiannon led Jack through the city to the royal manor on the other side. It wasn’t the permanent residence of any of the royal family, merely a holiday home of sorts. Flicking her hood back as she approached the gate, Jack was surprised to see her simply smile to the guard and he let them inside. Following her through the ground, she clearly knew where she was going and they soon found themselves standing hidden behind some pillars in the courtyard.

The courtyard they were watching was full of men on horses, the Prince’s army, Jack realised as he recognized the insignia on their uniforms.

“What are we doing here?” Jack whispered, only to be glared quiet.

“Stay here and pay attention, I don’t have time to explain. Don’t let yourself be seen or you’ll probably end up in the stocks. I’ll come back and fetch you afterwards,” Rhiannon whispered back and discarding her cloak, she stepped out into the courtyard.

  
The men who noticed her all dipped their head in greeting. A door opened beside Jack’s hiding place and Prince John entered with Rose on his arm. He was used to seeing her in beautiful gowns when she was out with Ianto and Rhiannon but the one she wore now screamed elegance and the crown nestled in her blonde hair proved just how blind he had been not to recognize her before.

Princess Rosalyn, wife of Prince John; Ianto and Rhiannon’s cousin.

Rhiannon walked over and joined them, the trio standing not far from his hiding place, where he could hear every word. Rhiannon’s manner was easy considering she was stood beside the future King and Queen of England.

“Did you talk to him?” Rose asked Rhiannon after a quick hug in greeting.

“I tried, but he won’t listen to me,” Rhiannon replied.

Jack frowned in confusion, who were they talking about? Ianto?

Rose turned to glare at John, who simply shook his head at her. “Don’t look at me, I don’t even know the whole story yet. All I know is his heart is troubled, he needs to get away and I’ve been requesting he complete this mission for a while now. If getting out of here right now is what he needs then let him go. He’ll be back when his heart tells him it’s time.”

The door on the other side of the courtyard opened and a soldier entered. Jack spared him little notice as he continued to watch the trio. Their attention however was glued to the new arrival as he approached head down as he finished fastening his wrist guards in place.

The soldier stopped before them and Jack finally decided he should probably pay him attention since Rhiannon wanted him to see all of this for some reason. Studying the armour, Jack realised it was different than the other men, a red cape fell from his shoulders, on his chest was the royal insignia but beside that was something else, his rank: General. This man was the leader of Prince John’s Personal Guard.

The man finally looked up and Jack froze in shock. He looked so different dressed in armour instead of the clothes of an upper classman and yet there he was. Ianto Jones.

“Are you sure about this? The spy has been quiet as of late, I’m sure going after him in a few more weeks times will make little difference,” John said after a sharp dig in the ribs from Rose’s elbow.

“No, we’ll head out momentarily. Now that you are no longer competing and can watch over these two I’m no longer needed here and... and there’s nothing else for me to stay for… I’d rather get this over and done with,” Ianto replied.

Rhiannon was just about to say something but Ianto cut her off. “Is Myfanwy ready?” he called out to his men, deliberately not making eye contact with his sister or cousin.

A young stable boy led a beautiful, large grey mare over and handed the reins to Ianto. “She’s all saddled and ready for you, Sir.”

  
“Thank you, Edward.”

Jack watched as Ianto pulled himself effortlessly onto her back, sinking into the saddle with such ease and confidence it was as if he was born for it. Turning the mare to face the soldiers his voice took on a commanding tone as he addressed them, “Alright men, tight formation we don’t want to be trampling anyone here from the tournament on our way out.”

“Yes Sir!” was the prompt reply.

Ianto looked down at John who was now standing beside him. “Take care of them for me, John.”

Prince John studied Ianto for a moment before nodding and stepping back knowing there was nothing he could say short of ordering Ianto not to go. But Jack knew Prince John was a good man and he suspected he wouldn’t order his family around unless he had to.

“I promise I’ll write,” Ianto said to the women before bowing in his saddle, the men behind him following his lead. “My Prince.”

“Good health to you all,” John replied.

With a final nod of his head Ianto turned his mare and took off out of the courtyard, thundering hooves filled the courtyard as all the men followed.

Jack sunk down to the floor behind the pillar, not caring what was happening anymore. He knew he should have jumped out and stopped Ianto but fear had kept him in his place. Not fear of being put in the stocks, he would suffer that if it meant keeping Ianto, but fear of Ianto’s rejection of the younger man choosing to leave anyway. Feeling numb, he wrapped his arms around himself and waited for Rhiannon to return. In one day he’d lost the chance to challenge his rival and more importantly his love, what was he supposed to compete for now?

 

\----------------------------------

  
“Andy.”

“Jack.”

“I need to write a letter.” Jack said taking a seat beside the herald.

Andy studied him a moment before fetching his ink and parchment. The other’s exchanged looks and moved closer to listen and help if they could, knowing exactly who Jack would be wanting to write a letter too.

"Dear Ianto" Jack began

“No,” Andy replied looking his straight in the eyes.

"My dearest Ianto?" Jack suggested.

“Better,” Andy grinned, beginning to write.

"I miss you."

Andy actually winced this time and Tosh had to bite back a giggle.

“Was that wrong?” Jack asked, glancing around at the others before stopping on Andy knowing the writer would be the best one to know these things.

“Well, it's up to you, really. It's your funeral, I mean, letter.”

“Say something about his ass, You miss his ass,” Owen suggested.

“Yes, you could, but I would tend to look a little higher than that,” Andy said, tapping on the centre of his chest.

“I miss his chest?” Jack teased, though he knew what Andy was actually meaning.

“Men and romance, we’ll be here until the moon vanishes and the sun arises at this rate,” Tosh groaned.

“The moon,” Jack grinned remembering back to their first banquet. Standing,  he paced back and forth speaking as he went, knowing Andy would get it all down. "It is strange to think, l have not seen you in a month. I have seen the new moon, but not you. I have seen sunsets and sunrises, but nothing of your face."

“That's very good,” Andy smiled, looking up once he’d finished writing.

“I knew this girl once who… well she broke my heart,” Rhys explained smiling sadly as he went,

“I used to say ‘The pieces of my broken heart can pass through the eye of a needle.’”

“There was this girl, she used to cook for the Duke of York,” Owen began, knowing he had something that might help. “She used to write to me and say “I miss you like the sun misses the flower. Like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to the heart, hardens like the frozen world your absence has sent me to."

Jack smiled sadly. Between the group, they  would write an amazing letter and each little section seemed to describe his feelings perfectly, though he’d never admit it to the others.

"When I next compete I'll find it empty and cold if you're not there,” Jack added.

“I like it,” Andy said looking up at Tosh as he finished writing, “And now, to finish it.”

“With ‘hope’. Love should end with hope,” Tosh began, looking down sadly at the floor lost in her memories. “My husband, Tommy, God rest him, said something I'll never forget. ‘Hope guides me. It gets me through the day and especially the night. The hope that after you leave my sight it will not be the last time I look upon you’.”

Owen reached over and gently squeezed Tosh’s hand in comfort.

  
“Finish it with: ‘With all the love that I possess...Jack’,” Jack said with a smile, pulling the attention away from Owen and Tosh so they could have a private moment.

“You mean, Ulrich,” Andy replied

Jack felt a flicker of hurt that he couldn’t even sign his letter properly.

"With all the love I possess l remain yours, the knight of your heart."


	13. Chapter 12

Ianto looked up as Johnny Davies walked into his tent carrying a pile of papers.

“Courier came this morning, Sir, he was carrying the documents you requested from your sister, as well as a letter,” Johnny said, setting his load down on the desk in the centre of the tent.

Ianto nodded in acknowledgement but continued to scan the latest Intel they’d received that morning.

Johnny waited for a moment to see if Ianto would say anything more. When there was no further comment his impatience got the better of him. “If you don’t mind me asking, Sir, you seem to have a keen interest in the tournaments at the moment. I’ve been with you on plenty of missions and you’ve never requested the records before.”

“You’ve always been the inquisitive one, Johnny. I have an interest in one of the knights and wish to see how he’s going,” Ianto replied putting down what he was doing and moving over to stand beside his second in command.

“Sir Ulrich del Immortalis. The man courting Lady Rhiannon,” Johnny replied and Ianto looked up at the bitter tone in his voice.

Ianto studied the man before him carefully, watching as he began to shift nervously under his scrutiny. “If you want to court Rhiannon, Johnny, all you’d have to do is ask.”

Johnny turned an interesting shade of red, “Oh! No sir I… I mean, that is… Do you mean that, Sir?”

“You’re my second in command Johnny, I trust you with my life. Why wouldn’t I trust you with my sister. If you break her heart however, I will break your neck.”

Johnny nodded happily and pulled Ianto into a brief rough hug. “I won’t, I promise.” Then remembering himself he let his commanding officer go. “But what about Sir Ulrich?”

“He was never courting my sister,” Ianto replied, wondering if Johnny could work it out with just that.

“Then who…Oh,” Johnny said, eyes widening in surprise as the penny dropped.

“Not one word Johnny or I’ll rescind my permission to court Rhiannon.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Off you go then, I want to read these before we set out. Make sure the men are ready to

  
go for me. If everything goes to plan today we should successfully complete our mission before sundown.”

Johnny nodded and with one last curious look he slipped back out of the tent.

Once he was alone, Ianto moved towards his desk, glancing briefly at the letter he put it to the side and reached for the tournament results.

Flicking through the results he was happy and proud to see that Ulrich was at the top of every scroll. What he couldn’t help but notice was that Hart was missing from them all, meaning Ulrich still hadn’t reached his goal.

Reaching for the letter he sighed, if it was another one from Rhiannon pleading with him to come home he was going to throw it into the campfire. He’d received plenty of them over the last few months, mainly from Rhiannon, occasionally from Rose; all of them trying to guilt him into coming home.

Breaking the seal on the back he was surprised to see a different style of handwriting.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Johnny looked up as Ianto exited his tent. The men behind him straightened at the sight of their commanding officer.

“Ready to go?” Ianto asked scanning the men.

“Of course, Sir,” Johnny nodded, eyeing his friend curiously, there was something different about him. It seemed that something in the letter had completely changed his mood.

“Let’s move out. I want this man caught by the end of the day. I want to be back in London in a few days.”

Johnny smiled in realisation. “Yes, Sir!” came the chorus response from the men.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Jack sat leaning against a large tree outside the Oak Tavern. They were spending one last night in Paris before heading off to the World Championships in London. The others were inside enjoying their winnings from a bet with some cocky Frenchmen. They’d best against Sir Ulrich. They were wrong.

Rhiannon had been writing to him regularly to keep him up to date with anything about Ianto but there was little news from her brother. She had sent him many letters but received no reply. They weren’t even sure if he was receiving them, or that he’d received the letter Jack had sent.

Hart was still away with his army as well. Jack was beginning to wonder what he was doing with himself, he still loved the competition but not having a decent opponent was beginning to bore him.

He’d stopped going to the banquets and there was little to interest him outside of the arena

  
now that Ianto was gone. The others tried to cheer him up but they soon learnt it was better to just leave him to it.

It was hard to see them all happy, it seemed that Andy was the only one other than himself who wasn’t falling in love. Owen had finally gained the courage to ask Tosh out and though they still spent some time arguing they generally seemed happy together. Even Rhys had found romance with Rhiannon’s handmaiden, Gwen, which Rhiannon was all for supporting, even slipping Rhys a little extra money to help him with the courtship.

Resting his head back on the trunk behind him, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the set of deep blue eyes he was missing and the man they belonged to.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Ianto stood in the shadows of the tavern not believing his luck. He thought he’d have to wait until they got back to London to track Ulrich down at the tournament. So it was a surprise when he and Johnny had walked into the Oak Tavern and found his squires there singing a song in praise of their master.

Ianto and his men were camped just outside the town so he and Johnny had decided to come into town for a celebratory drink.

“Are you going to go and talk to him, Sir, or stand here and watch him all day?” Johnny asked coming up behind him, pint in hand.

Ianto tore his eyes away from the lonely figure under the tree to glare at his friend.

“Don’t be such a git, go over there,” Johnny continued, pushing Ianto away from the tavern.

“Why did I tell you to court Rhiannon again?” Ianto muttered.

“Because everyone needs a brother-in-law like me,” Johnny grinned.

“That’s assuming she accepts you.”

“You underestimate my charms, just like you underestimate your relationship with him. Not many people would pretend to court their interest’s sister to save face.”

Ianto stared at Johnny in surprise, he was right and deep down Ianto knew that. Taking a deep breath he made his way towards the man he’d spent every night dreaming about since he’d left.

 

\----------------------------------

  
“Mind if I join you?”

Jack’s eyes snapped open in shock. He knew that voice. Turning to the left he stared at the man before him, not believing the vision before him.

Ianto Jones stood beside him, smiling down at him nervously. He looked extremely regal

standing there in full uniform, though the top few buttons of his jacket had been loosened for comfort.

Jack had trouble finding his voice but he shook his head signalling that he didn’t mind as he climbed to his feet.

Ianto glanced around them, there were very few people close to them, but still he wanted more privacy than this. Tipping his head in the direction of the beach, Jack quickly got the idea and the pair moved off in silence.

Reaching the beach, Ianto found them a small secluded alcove and once they were alone he turned to face Jack.

“I got your letter,” Ianto began, making sure he had Jack’s attention before continuing, “I was on my way to meet you in London when I saw the others in the tavern.”

“You left,” Jack said It wasn’t accusatory just a fact but one they needed to talk about.

“I was hurt and angry,” Ianto explained.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for leaving.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Jack pulled Ianto into a crushing embrace, lips claiming the other man’s in near desperation. Ianto returned it just as ferociously.

Breaking apart when their lungs screamed for air, they made themselves comfortable  on the sand facing the ocean, sitting as close as possible.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the waves gently breaking on the shore, content to just be with each other again.

“Telling you I’ll win this tournament for you seems a bit foolish,” Jack mused, his hand brushing over the insignia on Ianto’s uniform. Ianto didn’t say anything, he just smiled. “What can I do to prove how I feel?”

“How do you feel?” Ianto asked, needing to hear the answer spoken, not just insinuated.

“I think I love you,” Jack replied quietly.

“If you want to prove you love me, to yourself as well as me, the do your worst in the tournament.”

“My worst?” Jack asked confused.

“Go against your character and do badly, loose,” Ianto explained.

“Losing only proves that I’m a loser,” Jack scowled.

“No. Losing is a way to test your love. Losing would contradict your self-love and love of the

  
game. Will you do it?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Then you do not love me.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
Andy stood on the railings, addressing the crowd of the London arena, the first match of the world championships upon them. Hart had been called back to compete in the finals, Ianto had returned and Jack was set to be in fine form. “….the Protector of Italian Virginity, the Lance that thrilled France. The Harasser of Paraser! He gave them hell at La Rochelle! The Enforcer of our Lord God! The one, the only, Sir Ulrich del Immortalis!!” Andy listened as the crowd went wild, “God, I'm good!” he grinned to himself.

 

\----------------------------------

  
Ianto watched as Ulrich lined Janet up with the lists, Rhys handed him the lance as Tosh did a final check of his armour and Owen checked Janet.

“Ianto you asked a lot of him. He does love you even if he does win the tournament,” Rhiannon said from beside her brother.

“It’s not that hard to lose Rhiannon,” Ianto scowled.

“Says a man who’s not lost a single thing in his life, you’re too pig headed to lose. What makes you think Ulrich is any different?”

Ianto didn’t say anything, he knew she was right but at the same time he was wishing Ulrich would prove her wrong and do as he asked. Prove that he really loved Ianto, the way Ianto was beginning to suspect he loved Ulrich.

The flag dropped and the crowd cheered.

The squire spooked the horses and the knights charged and then something happened that Ianto never thought he’d see.

“Oh, my lord,” Rhiannon whispered beside him, tears welling in her eyes.

Sir Ulrich del Immortalis had stopped his horse and was waiting for the lance to hit him.


	14. Chapter 13

Jack gasped as his opponent’s lance slammed into his chest. Janet huffed as the force of him being slammed into pulled on her tack. His opponent gave him a confused look as her rode back to his end of the lists.

“What are you doing?” Rhys asked, running up alongside Jack, worried his friend was hurt, Tosh and Owen seconds behind him.

“Losing,” Jack sighed, not able to meet his friend’s eyes through the slit in his visor.

“I don't understand,” Rhys replied confused.

“Neither do I,” Jack muttered as Rhys, Tosh and Owen exchanged worried and confused looks.

“Are you blind? Did you see the flag?” Andy asked running over.

“I saw it, okay?” Jack replied, watching as his opponent lined himself up again.

“I know. You're dropping behind for a more dramatic victory,” Owen guessed though they all knew it was just wishful thinking.

While they were talking the flag had been dropped once more. The sound of pounding hooves had them all looking up. Jack steadied Janet and the others dove for cover as the knight drew towards them, his lance once more plowing into Jack’s chest.

Jack shook his head to clear the lance splinters that had slipped inside his helmet as the others gathered around him once more.

“Look, Ianto told me to lose to prove my love.”

“Oh, I'd rather you were blind,” Andy groaned.

“Don't be foolish, Jack. He just wants proof that he hasn’t let you shag him for no reason,” Rhys said, rubbing Janet’s neck to try and calm the agitated mare.

“I haven’t shagged him Rhys,” Jack confessed in a low voice.

“Then why are we doing this?!” Owen snapped.

“Because...Because l love him!”

 

\----------------------------------

“No knight has distanced himself with victories. If you win your remaining matches and your opponents take key losses you could make the semis, or the finals,” Andy explained, scanning through the match results he’d borrowed from the records table.

It was midday and they were trying to get everything ready for Jack’s afternoon matches, which included fixing Jack’s dislocated shoulder. Owen gestured for Andy to help as he finished fixing Jack’s injured arm into the brace.

“At least the armour’s proven itself,” Tosh said as she sat doing a few minimal repairs to it.

Andy took up position behind Jack, ready to push down as Owen used the brace to pull Jack’s arm vertically outward.

“And your love? Have you proven that yet?” Owen asked, twisting the handle so the device pulled on Jack’s arm. Jack cried out in pain as his shoulder protested the movement. Owen paused for a moment letting Jack adjust to the pain as Andy felt the joint to see if it was ready.

“Owen, you know what it’s like. The happiness, the excitement, the fear, the passion. That's what he makes me feel. And if I have to go through a little pain to prove it then so be it,” Jack admitted.

“Jack, that’s insane,” Owen replied, twisting the handle again.

Jack  grunted at the pressure as Andy simultaneously pushed down and there was an audible ‘pop’ as Jack’s shoulder moved back into place. He groaned in relief as some of the pain subsided as Owen released his arm from the brace.

“Withdraw. Lose that way. Take no more punishment,” Rhys said, the pain at seeing his friend in agony clear in his eyes.

“Oh, Rhys...” Jack sighed, but was cut off when Gwen walked in.

Seeing the look on Rhys’ face, she stopped beside him, squeezing his hand in comfort as she addressed Jack, “My Lord sends this message. If you love him…”

“I know, I know. I must lose. Isn't he watching?” Jack growled rubbing his sore shoulder.

“He says if you love him, you won't lose again. He says if you really love him, you will no longer lose and you will win this tournament.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
Andy stood beside Jack on the side of the lists, waiting for the flag to drop to signal the next match. “There he is, the embodiment of love. Your Adonis,” Andy said, gesturing to where Ianto, Rhiannon and Gwen were sitting in the stands.

“And how I hate him,” Jack said, slamming the visor of his helmet down.

The flag dropped and Jack charged.

  


\----------------------------------

  
Jack winced as he dressed in his night shirt.

The others had wanted him to see a surgeon but he had refused, they were only bruises. He would be stiff but other than that fine by the morning.

The flap to their tent pulled back but it wasn’t Rhys as he’d expected, it was a man he’d never seen before.

“Are you looking for someone?” Jack asked, eyeing the man before him. He was wearing a military uniform but no crest to mark whose army he belonged to.

“I was asked to escort you and your men to a manor on the edge of the city. The lord of the manor has requested your presence,” he said politely with a bow.

“It’s getting late, my men and I were planning on retiring for the night shortly,” Jack replied.

“I understand Sir Ulrich, but please, this is not something you wish to miss and the manor is only a short ride from here, I have brought a coach for you and your servants to travel in.”

Jack eyed the man before him carefully, whoever this Lord was he clearly wanted Jack to agree. Sighing, he nodded his consent.“Give me time to change and fetch the others.”

 

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Jack stared out the window of the coach as they approached the manor, a large stone structure with three stories which no doubt held a great many rooms. Finer than Sir Ector’s had been by a long shot and much finer than anything Jack had ever seen.

“You really have no idea whose place this is?” Rhys asked, leaning forward to peer around Jack and out the window.

“Whoever it is has good fortune to own a manor like that,” Andy said from his seat opposite Jack.

“Do you boys want to shut the curtains before we get closer? Let’s at least try not to look like we’re gawking,” Tosh muttered from her place between Owen and Andy.

Jack glanced at Rhys and Andy before pulling the curtain back into place and sitting back in his seat. Once the coach came to a stop the door was opened from the other side by a man, who looked like a steward, dressed in a suit, with a crest on his pocket.

Bowing, he gestured for them to step down from the coach, offering his hand to Tosh when it was her turn.

“If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms,” the steward said politely.

“Rooms?” Andy asked confused.

“Yes, my master had told us you will all be staying for the duration of the tournament at

least and rooms have been prepared for each of you. I was asked to show you all to your rooms before escorting Sir Ulrich to speak to my master,” the man said, walking into the manor leaving the others to follow him.

“Sir?” Rhys asked, making sure to maintain his position as squire, since the soldier who fetched them was watching them in amusement.

“We go in. It’ll be a might comfier than sleeping in our cold tents tonight. I’ll speak to the Lord and if there’s any problem I’ll fetch you and we can head back,” Jack said, looking for the nod of agreement from each of them before they headed inside.

The steward was waiting patiently for them just inside the manor. Seeing them enter he gave a nod and a smile before leading the way. Each were given a room apart from Jack, with Tosh and Owen’s rooms adjoining, showing whoever the Lord was he obviously knew them.

Jack was lead away and the other’s quickly emerged from their rooms, meeting in the hall.

“Anyone else feel the need to have a look around?” Owen asked.

“I don’t know, we are guest here, we probably shouldn’t go snooping around,” Rhys argued, scanning the hall to check that no one was around.

“Exactly, we’re guests not prisoners so we should be allowed to walk around,” Andy grinned.

“I don’t know…” Tosh said, leaning towards Rhys’ side of the argument.

“Well we can always go on our own if you two want to stay here,” Owen replied squeezing Tosh’s hand to let her know it was okay if she chose to stay behind.

“No, if you two are determined to go, we better come to, if for no other reason than to keep you out of trouble,” Rhys sighed.

 

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Jack was led to a small sitting room of some sort and left there; being told the Lord would be with him shortly as he was just attending to some last minute business. Instead of sitting to wait, Jack’s curiosity got the better of him and chose to look around the room while he waited. Normal things made up the room really, books, a desk, comfortable chairs, fireplace, oil lamps, nothing that could give him any clue of his host. On one side of the room there was another door, partially open and as Jack moved closer he could see a lavishly furnished bedroom beyond.

Hearing footsteps coming towards the outer door, he quickly moved his way to the fire place to hide the fact that he’d just been snooping. Staring into the flames he heard the door open behind him. The new arrival didn’t say anything, just stood there silently watching him. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Jack finally turned to face the newcomer and started in surprise at their mysterious host.

“We missed you at banquet, Sir Ulrich.”

 

\----------------------------------

  
Rhys ignored the hushed whispers of the others behind him as they urged him to peak around the corner and see if the close was clear.

Throwing a glare at them to silence their voices, he peeked around the corner and jumped, letting out a cry of shock which had the others behind him jumping. Gwen was standing just around the corner, having heard them she’d lent against the wall and waited, bursting out laughing as she got the desired reaction from the snoops.

“Honestly, you lot are like a herd of cattle, stomping around, how no one’s heard you before now I’ll never know,” she grinned, stepping around the corner to join them.

“What are you doing here?” Owen demanded.

“I live here, you’re the guests not me,” Gwen replied defensively, glaring at Owen as Rhys pulled her into his arms for a cuddle and hello kiss.

“We’re in the Jones manor?” Andy asked in surprise.

 

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Jack stared as Ianto walked further into the room. He was dressed in his normal pants, but without shoes, cravat or jacket and his shirt had the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. He looked good enough to eat and for a moment there Jack didn’t even process that Ianto had spoken.

“We?” Jack asked, finally finding his voice again as Ianto stopped before him.

“I, Ianto, your prize.”

“My prize? I am not worthy of such a prize,” Jack replied, his voice a little deeper than normal and Ianto couldn’t help the small smirk that twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“Then who is? Rhiannon’s maid tells me that sometimes, your men, they call you Jack,” Ianto said, watching as worry and defensiveness flickered briefly in Jack’s eyes. “Is this so, Sir Ulrich?

“Yes,” Jack said meeting Ianto’s eyes, “Yes it is so,” he repeated, waiting for Ianto’s reaction.

Ianto moved closer, his hand moving up to cup Jack’s cheek. “Your name makes no matter to me. So long as I can call you my own.”

“Oh, but Ianto, I am your own,” Jack said, leaning forward and catching Ianto’s lips in a kiss and the two men fumbled their way towards Ianto’s bedroom.

Jack gasped as they backed into the doorframe jarring his sore shoulder. Ianto pulled back with a worried look. He pulled Jack’s shirt away from his shoulder to see the deep bruising

from the dislocation. Knowing there was nothing he could do to treat it other than strap it for Jack in the morning, he pressed a kiss to the colored skin before him.

“This pain is my doing,” Ianto’s voice held a guilty note but when Jack caught his chin he looked up and met the other man’s gaze.

“Yes it is, but my father taught me to take the bad with the good,” Jack explained, pressing a chaste kiss to Ianto’s lips.

“This good you speak of?”

“Yes.”

“It will be my doing as well,” Ianto smiled, taking Jack’s hand and leading him towards the bed.


	15. Chapter 14

Jack stood in the tournament stables tightening his armour as they prepared for this next joust.

“Well well well, at last we will face each other again, Sir Ulrich, and at the world championships,” came a sarcastic voice from behind him.

Jack turned to glare at Hart who was standing in the doorway of the stable leering at Tosh. Owen looked ready to attack and would have if it wasn’t for Rhys and Andy holding him back with subtly placed hands. Tosh merely glared at the man and moved around the corner out of his sight, Owen soon joining her.

“As I promised you before Hart you will look up at me from the flat of your back,” Jack growled, crossing his arms and pulling himself to his full height so he could look down on his adversary.

“Let the past die,” Hart snorted, moving into the barn. “I see you’ve finally put that old mare of yours into retirement, he said gesturing to where Janet stood in a stall happily chewing on some hay beside their pack pony. “I thought you’d be riding that thing till she died, instead you have a fine looking new mare,” John continued eyeing Myfanwy.

Jack couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he thought back to this morning when Ianto had gifted him with the beautiful mare. She was Ianto's favourite, the same horse Jack had seen Ianto ride out on leading his army. She was fully trained in everything, including jousting and with her own set of tack and armour ready for him to use in his next match. He instantly took to the dark mare and while he’d miss riding Janet in the competitions she really was getting too old.

Seeing Jack’s attention had drifted elsewhere Hart sneered at the man, he didn’t like being ignored so he decided to draw the attention back to him.“You’ve done well in my absence, on the field and off I’m told. Winning trophies, horses, women.”

“You put them in that order?” Jack asked, disapproval clear in his voice.

Bilis appeared at the stable door and signalled for his Master’s attention.

“Generally, with a few exceptions,” Hart smirked, moving towards the door, giving Tosh one last leer as she came into view again.

Rhys managed to catch Owen as he moved to take on the Count. Hart didn’t even look back as he left with Bilis.

 

\----------------------------------

Hart stood with Bilis and his friend, Lord Arcadian, on the sidelines as they watched the joust between Ulrich and Jacobs.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you this tournament, my friend,” Arcadian smirked.

“I will defeat him,” Hart snorted confidently.

“I’m not so sure anymore, you’re been away with your army for most of the season. I hear the only reason you were asked back was because the Prince has interests in Ulrich. He’d be happy to see him the next world champion, but the only way that is possible is for him to beat the former champion. Which is why you my friend were called back, to be defeated and boost Ulrich to champion,” Arcadian stated. 

“I will not be defeated. It has been my title for the last six years and I will not lose it to some poor country fledgling knight,” Hart sneered.

“You may not have a choice,” Arcadian replied, watching as Ulrich won his match against Jacobs.

“I’ll come up with something,” Hart snapped. “How would you defeat him?”

Arcadian snorted in amusement. “With a stick while he slept. But on a horse? With a lance? That man is unbeatable.”

Hart was just about to retort when Bilis approached. “My lord? May I present Simon, a simple summoner.” Turning to the fat greasy man beside him, he instructed the man to speak up. “Tell the count what you told me.”

Simon bowed his head, not meeting Hart’s eyes out of fear as he began to talk “I’m afraid my lord that a sin had been committed. A sin of deception. A vulgar sin of pride. As God and the natural order have been denied.”

“Speak plainly summoner,” Hart interrupted in annoyance.

“Ulrich del Immortalis is not who he appears to be.”

 

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Jack, Ianto, Rhys, Owen and Tosh were making their way towards the manor; they had been in town at the local pub celebrating another day of Ulrich’s winning. Now they were heading to bed, laughing and joking as they walked across the field when Rhys froze and let out a spluttering noise. The others stopped and stared at him in confusion before he pointed something out to them. There, slipping into the barn was a stark naked Andrew Davidson carrying an apple from the nearby tree.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Owen growled as they stalked towards the barn.

Ianto followed behind in amusement as he wondered just what Chaucer was doing walking around in the buff.

“Chaucer! How much did you lose?!” Jack demanded as they stepped into the barn.

  
Andy looking up in surprise as Jack used his other name in his anger, “What?”

“Rambling. Your clothes, how much money?” Rhys asked.

Ianto raised an eyebrow at the man being questioned, he never would have thought of the herald as a gambler, let alone one who lost everything, including his clothes.

“Not a penny, my clothes lie over there,” Andy said gesturing to the pile in the corner of the room.

“I can’t think of a thing to say,” Tosh muttered, trying to keep her eyes at a decent level no matter the temptation.

“Then why the hell are you walking around naked?” Owen growled.

Andy stared at them all for a moment as if deciding what to say and finally he shrugged. “She was hungry.”

“Who?” Jack asked confused.

The blankets behind Andy moved as a dark skinned woman peeked her head out from beneath.

“I’d like you to meet my wife, Kathy.”

“You lying shit.” Owen hissed, moving towards Andy but Rhys caught his arm and held him back as Kathy sat up, making sure to keep the blanket, covering her modesty as she was clearing as naked as her husband beneath.

“Oh you must be Owen. You’re Rhys and Tosh. You must be Ianto with those clothes, which makes you Jack,” Kathy said. She looked like she was going to say more but a look from Andy told her to stop.

“I don’t know what to say,” Tosh muttered again.

“Would anyone like a bite?” Kathy asked holding out the apple. Everyone refused, though Owen paused to think about it before he caught sight of Tosh’s glare.

There was a slightly awkward silence following until Ianto decided to leave the reunited couple to their privacy. “Sorry to barge in on you,” he smiled taking Jack’s arm and nudging them all in the direction of the door, apologies offered as they left. 

“They seem much for fun than those boring pilgrims you hung out with last year,” Ianto heard Kathy say as he closed the door behind them and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the friends he’d made in this odd group of people.

Catching the look on his lover’s face Jack felt a warmth spread through him.  He took his lovers hand now they were on the privacy of his land and with a smile they continued on their way.

 

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Ianto had been called away on business at the palace for the day so Jack had headed down to the stables. It was pouring with rain so there was no way the tournament would be running today. Jack figured today was as good a time as any to head over to Cheapside to see if he could discover any news on his father or brother.

Walking into the barn he found Janet standing in her stall chewing on the gate. Myfanwy stood beside her new friend watching her as if she was trying to figure out what the older horse was doing.

Chuckling, he changed direction slightly and walked to the saddle rack, pulling Janet’s down before making his way towards her stall.

“Didn’t you hear? We’re rained off. You’re gonna have to win the tournament tomorrow,” Owen said from his position sitting by the entrance as he waited for Tosh to get back from her food run.

“I know,” Jack said as he saddled up Janet. Once she was ready to go he walked her from the stall and mounted her as Rhys and Tosh walked in carrying food.

Tosh sat beside Owen offering him what she’d brought back while Rhys looked at Jack in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“She’s bored so I’m taking her for a nice sedate walk,” Jack said walking Janet towards the exit.  She snatched the apple Andy held out to her as he entered the stable.

“In this?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the downpour.

“In this,” Jack confirmed, turning in the saddle to grin at his oldest friend.

“Head,” Rhys warned.

Jack turned around and ducked just in time to miss hitting his head on the stable door. “Thank you,” he called back over his shoulder as he walked out into the rain.

Rhys shook his head in exasperation and went on with the chores he wanted to get done during their rain induced holiday.

 

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Once he’d reached the area he quickly asked the first few people he’d come across questions that could lead him to his family without making it obvious. He’d asked about a good Thatcher, even asked where he could find Harkness Thatchery, whom Sir Ulrich’s imaginary father had used in the past. The answers had led him to a small, slightly dingy looking home a few doors down from his childhood home. His father had died two years back from an illness which had swept the area but if the answers he’d gotten were correct, behind this door should be his baby brother. He’d expected to have lost his father, he would have been a very old man by now had he lived. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to find Gray, assuming the younger man would have moved further away than a few doors down.

 

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__

“Father I don’t want to go!” young Jack argued, glaring up at his father. __

_“Jack this is your chance to work with a knight, to learn from him, to follow your dreams,” his father tried to reason with him. _

_“But Gray’s sick, it’s my fault he’s sick, I can’t go,” Jack countered. _

_“Jack it wasn’t your fault and you know the Surgeon said he would be fine with a little more rest. Jack if you don’t go now you may never get this opportunity again. The tournament is over and the knight’s are leaving.” _

_“But dad…” _

_“Jack, you’ve got to,” came a raspy voice from across the room. _

_“Gray you should be in bed,” their father sighed, he’d had a feeling his youngest would hear their arguing and come out. _

_“No. Jack’s got to go. He’s got to change his star so he can come home and show them to me,” Gray said, the effort to talk making him sag a little on the step where he was sitting. _

_Jack went over to his brother and hugged him tight. “I will Gray, I promise. I’ll come back and show you.” _

 

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Jack was just about to lift his hand and knock when the door before him opened and he was suddenly face to face with Gray. It was easy to recognize him, he looked so much like their father. Jack stared at him unsure what to say.

“Can I help you? If you’re here for the net, I haven’t finished it yet. But if you come back tomorrow I’ll have it finished,” Gray said and Jack felt an ice lump form in his stomach. His brother didn’t recognize him, of course he didn’t, he’d been so young when Jack had left and Jack knew just how much he’d changed in that time.

When Jack continued to stare at him and not say anything Gray tried again, “Who are you?”

Jack swallowed hard before finding his voice, “A knight. My name… is Ulrich.”

“Ulrich? I’ve not had a chance to watch any of the matches yet but I’ve heard your name being chanted from the stadium. What business have you here?” Gray replied in surprise.

“I have word master Harkness. Word of your brother.”

“Jack?! You know of Jack? Come in, sir,” Gray said ushering Jack into the room. He paced for a moment before turning to Jack.

“What word? Does he live?”

  
“Aye,” Jack said voice catching a little. “He lives. He is very well.” Gray’s eyes swam with relief as Jack continued, his voice wavering as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

“He wanted you to know that he changed his stars after all.”

Gray swallowed hard, trying to hold back his tears as he stared at the man before him, realisation dawning in his eyes “Will he show them to me?” he managed to whisper.

“I promised, didn’t I,” Jack whispered, catching his younger brother as he knew himself into Jack’s arms.

“I’ve missed you so much, Jack,” Gray said, hugging his older brother close and happy, relieved tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Oh, Gray. I’ve missed you too, so much and I have so much to tell you,” Jack whispered, holding his brother just as tightly.

 


	16. Chapter 15

Jack trotted Janet to the stable that afternoon, the rain had stopped and he needed to get ready but he couldn’t keep the grin from his face. Gray was alive, he’d found him and tomorrow, tomorrow he would come and watch him joust.

Tosh was waiting for him when he dismounted, the look on her face told him he was about to get in trouble again for cutting their preparation time so close but he was too happy to care. Sweeping the Ferris into his arms, he picked her up and spun her around, making her shriek in laughter. “He’s alive, Tosh! My baby brother’s alive!”

Owen and Rhys grinned at their friend, they were happy for him, knowing how much baggage he’d carried over his brother.

Ianto, Rhiannon and Gwen walked into the stables; Jack looked up and grinned at them “Ianto! This day just gets better and better!” Catching his lover’s hand, he dragged him into a nearby stall, pinning him against the hey and kissed him soundly.

Ianto laughed, breaking the kiss but Jack continued kissing a trail down his neck. “What’s gotten you so happy?”

“No time to explain, I need to get ready for my match,” Jack said, lips still brushing Ianto’s pulse point as he spoke.

“Then you need to be getting up,” Ianto replied, trying to get up but remained successfully pinned under his lover. Ianto frowned, there had only been one person before now who’d managed to successfully pin him. When Jack finally looked up smiling, blue eyes met Ianto’s and a wave of déjà vu swept over him.

Ianto’s eyes widened in shock as he finally realised why he’d thought Jack was familiar when they’d met.

Jack’s eyes widened in fear as he, too, realised the significance of the moment.

“It’s you? You’re the one who saved me from the bandits, but you were a squire! How?” Ianto asked, his voice full of confusion and hurt.

Jack scrambled off him, mouth opening and closing as he failed to find the words to explain.

Finally he turned and dashed out of the stall not wanting to hear Ianto’s rejection when he learned the truth.

He came to an abrupt halt, Ianto stopping just behind him when he saw the people around them. His friends looked broken, Rhiannon had tears in her eyes as she glanced between Jack and Ianto, Gwen was crying softly into Rhys’ shoulder and Andy stood in front of them

  
all, the bearer of bad news and an emotional wreck.

“What happened? Did somebody die?” Jack asked worried.

“Sir Ulrich del Immortalis,” Andy replied, his voice shaking as he spoke.

“What?” Jack asked, Ianto echoing him a second behind.

“Hart followed you last night. To Cheapside. He says he saw your brother,” Andy began to explain. “Jack, they asked me for your patents. They’re waiting for you in the lists to arrest you. A dozen royal guards, they’ll put you in the stocks.”

“But I face Hart in five minutes,” Jack replied, still in shock

“No, you forfeit, they’ve already marked it down,” Andy replied.

“He knew he couldn’t defeat you so he found another way around it,” Ianto whispered, stepping forward so he was closer to Jack.

“Saddle the horses. They can arrest your baggage, not you,” Rhys said, moving towards Myfanwy’s stall.

“Halt,” Jack said, turning he face Ianto, arms spread, palms up. “So, what do you think, now that you know what I am?”

“To know what you are Jack would take a lifetime. One I am willing to give but now you must run.  There is nothing else to do. Run and I will find you but I know my men, they will do their duty to uphold the law, even if it means ignoring my orders.”

“How can they disobey their commander?” Tosh asked.

“They will if the orders came from higher than I.”

“Ianto, I cannot run. I’m a knight and I will put myself to the hazard. I will not run like a coward, not after I’ve spent so long proving myself,” Jack insisted, taking Ianto’s hands in his.

“A knight in your heart but not on paper. And paper’s all that matters to them,” Rhys stressed, pointing in the direction of the arena.

“Jack, I love you. You. And I’m sorry but I don’t want to see you led to the stocks, no matter the cost to your pride,” Ianto replied shaking his head as he tried to keep his emotions in check. Everything had been perfect and now it was all falling apart around them.

“Damn your pride, Jack. It is only you that will not see you run,” Tosh said stepping into the argument to convince their friend to run.

“Pride is the one thing they can’t take from me!” Jack growled back.

“But they can take it from you, they can and they will. Oh they will. But love they cannot

take. Go, stay free so one day you can be with my brother,” Rhiannon said, tears still slowly slipping down her cheeks, knowing that with Ianto here it would have to be her fiancé Johnny leading Jack’s arrest.

“And where will we live? We would never get a royal’s permission if I were on the run! We’d have to stay a secret, we could never show our love outside whatever hovel I can find us to live in,” Jack argued, his own tears beginning to well in the corner of his eyes.

“Better to love in secret that not be able to love at all,” Ianto whispered from beside him.

Jack stared around the room desperately, “Rhys, you would see me run?”

Rhys looked away unable to meet Jack’s eyes as he nodded, knowing Jack would not like his answer.

“And you, Andy?”

“Run Jack, do it for love.”

“Rhiannon?”

“Yes, I wish it too, with all the pieces of my heart.”

“Owen? You and I? We aren’t runners.”

“Yes, Jack, today we are.”

“Run Jack,” Tosh added before Jack could even ask her.

Jack stared at the people around him is disbelief. “No! I will not run!” he yelled defiantly. None of them understood, none of them were supporting him. “I am a knight!”

The stable fell into a broken silence as reality began to sink in for all of them.

“Well boys, all good things must come to an end. Let’s end them together,” Rhys said eventually, stepping forward and passing Jack his helmet.

Jack met his eyes and nodded in thanks. Ianto, Rhiannon and Gwen watched helplessly as they prepared Jack and Myfanwy as if they were really going to joust.

Before they left Jack stopped in front of Ianto and pulled his lover into a desperate kiss full of pain, apology and goodbye.

Moments later, Jack and his team walked rebelliously towards the arena. Ianto turned and ran, he couldn’t bear to see Jack arrested by his own men.

 

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Ianto didn’t even knock or pause to speak to the guards on the door, he just burst into the throne room.

“Ianto,” Rose gasped, watching as her cousin stalked towards them.

With a flick of the Prince’s wrist, the room was cleared and Ianto turned on his cousin-in-law now that he had the privacy to do so.

“Not him! Anyone but him!”

“Ianto, you need to calm down and think. He broke the law, you know we can’t just let it slide,” Rose said trying to defend her husband.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Ianto hissed at John. “Your father makes the laws and you can damn well null them for specific cases!” Ianto snapped, fists trembling at his side, but John was not affected by the outburst.

“Jack Harkness is an impossible thing, a peasant squire should not be able to make himself into a knight. My decision stands Ianto. Now I have something I must see too. All will be well again cousin, you’ll see,” John said and with that he left the room.

Ianto collapsed to his knees where he stood, Rose rushing to his side to comfort him.

“How can it be well again when the man I love is in the stocks and going to be executed?” he whispered brokenly.

 

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Ianto stood by the window staring brokenly at the scene before him. Jack had been left in the stocks overnight. Ianto had snuck down in the darkness when no one but a single guard was there. He sent  the guard to fetch himself a drink so he could speak with Jack. He’d tried to help Jack, bringing him food and drink. Jack had taken the meal Ianto gave to him but he refused to say anything.

When the guard returned, Ianto had been forced to leave, going back to the tavern room he’d paid for where he could watch over Jack from the window.

When dawn had come so had the crowd, laughing as they threw rotten fruit at the man in the stocks. Ianto wanted nothing more to summon his men and go down there and protect Jack but he knew he couldn’t. It was slowly tearing him apart, but what right did he have to go and hide when his lover stood out their bravely facing every piece of food and insult that was thrown at him. Ianto couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy as Jack’s ‘men’ marched out there to stand in front of Jack and protect him the way he wished he could.

 

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“Leave Rhys, let them at me,” Jack sighed, recognising his best friend’s boots standing beside him.

“God love you, Jack. So do I,” Rhys replied, tightening his hand on the plank of wood he was holding. Tosh stood on the other side of Jack with two of her tools in her hands as weapons.

“Go! Disperse! Or I will fong you!” Owen snarled stalking back and forward in front of Jack

not caring as the crowd yelled and threw things at him.

“Listen to me! Listen to me!” Andy called as he entered the area in his usual manor to call their attention to him “You’re cut from the same cloth, you and he...”

This time they didn’t want to listen and began throwing food at him. Some sort of meat pie hit him in the chest. Andy paused as an idea came to him. Scrapping a bit off his shirt he tasted the pie and then looked into the crowd. “Mother? Is my mother here? I’d recognize this cooking anywhere.” The crowd laughed and knew gained their attention once more.

“Please mother, you at least go home. I’ll tell you how it turns out. I hope it is good news mum. I hope I can tell you that I managed to convince these good people to leave my lord Jack unharmed. For I have never seen a heart like the one that beats inside this man,” Andy pointed back to Jack. The emotion in his words was clear and his eyes red from holding back his own tears as he defended his friend with all he was worth. “Great, it is swollen with all the virtues of pride, forthright, free, courageous, constant and most of all, filled with hope. At least until today. What fills it now, I know not. I ask you. What makes a man noble? His lineage or his heart?”

“His heart,” one man called out.

“A good heart,” a woman agreed and soon most of the crowd was agreeing, it was the heart that made a true nobleman, not his lineage.

“My lord, it’s true, was born poor in Cheapside London and so what? For he is as true as steel. No, truer. For he is like gold… to me. He is like gold and you and I are merely iron. And yet, you people, you would come to see him rust. For shame. Shame on you. Leave him. Go home,” Andy’s voice was hoarse, he was emotionally drained and looked like he was about to collapse.

The crowd’s attention was drawn away suddenly drawn to one side where Prince John had appeared from under a heavy  cloak that had previously concealed his identity. Two burly guards stood on either side of him following his lead and stripping their cloaks so they had access to their swords should they need to protect their liege.

Andy stepped back with a bow as the Prince made his way over to Jack and with one foot on the step of the stocks he bent low enough that he could see Jack’s face.

“What a pair we make, huh?” Prince John began, Jack’s eyes widening in surprise as he craned his neck to look at the Prince. “Both trying to hide who we are. Both unable to do so. Your men love you and you also tilt when you should withdraw.  Both are the traits of a true knight. If I knew nothing else about you that would be enough. But my cousin-in-law loves you, so much that he’s willing to argue with me and defy me. My wife tells me you love him just as much and I can never defy my family what they truly love.” He straightened and turned to his guards. “Release him.”

Turning, Prince John stared at the crowd intently before addressing them,  “He may appear to be of humble origins but my personal historians worked through the night and they have discovered that he descends from an ancient royal line. This is my word and as such is beyond contestation.”

One of his guards stepped forward and presented him with a sword, the gold and diamond studded handle glittering in the light. He turned to face Jack who was being helped from the stocks by Rhys and Owen. “Now, if I may repay the kindness you once showed me. Take a knee.”

Jack couldn’t believe what was happening to him as he shakily made his way down the steps, Andy helping him down onto one knee as Prince John stepped forward.

“By the power vested in me by my father, King Edward and by all the witnesses here. I dub thee, Sir Jack,” Prince John announced and touched the sword to each of Jack’s shoulders.

The other’s watched as their friend’s dream was realised, the joy clear on their faces as everything they’d been working for had finally came true.

“Arise, Sir Jack,” Prince John said, reaching down and offering his hand to help Jack to his feet. “Can you joust?” he asked once Jack was standing.

“What?” Jack replied, not sure he’d heard him right.

“There’s my tournament to finish. Now, are you fit to compete or shall the forfeit stand?” Prince John asked with a smile, already knowing what the answer was going to be.

“I’m fit,” Jack replied and pulled himself up straighter.

“I shall have your opponent informed of it. Look for his shield on the lists,” Prince John said, tightening his grip on Jack’s hand into a firm handshake which Jack returned.

“Thank you, my lord.”

 

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Ianto stared down from his window in shock; he’d not been able to hear anything John had said to Jack. But right now though, he didn’t care. John had done it, he’d found a way around the law and Jack would get to complete like he wanted. Ianto left the room at a run and mounting his horse hurriedly, he steered her in what he hoped was the right direction. If Jack was going to compete and have his own name used for the first time, there was someone who deserved to be there to see it.


	17. Chapter 16

Hart glared at the Prince as he took his throne in the stadium and the crowd cheered, “All hail, Prince John!”

He’d had everything worked out, he’d managed to get Ulrich out of the way and he was going to keep hold of his title with very little problems.

He’d only had a little time to come up with a plan, but when your own servants feared you it was amazing how fast they could work. He watched as two men brought his lances to his end of the arena.  A woman scurried over to him and passed him a wrapped lance head, an example of the ones now waiting to be used.

“My lord, these will work just as you requested.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes sire. It’s nothing but spun sugar and boot black,” she replied. Hart looked around to make sure no one was looking before he squeezed the end of the lance. It shattered in his hand revealing the tipped end beneath. Hart looked to the other end of the lists where Jack was getting ready, a cruel smile spreading across his face. He would win this tournament after all.

 

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“It’s a small target, Jack, but aim for his heart,” Andy said, handing Jack a lance.

Jack nodded in thanks. Scanning the stands, he spotted Gwen and Rose and two empty seats between them. Gwen shrugged, indicating she had no idea where master or mistress had vanished too.

Jack turned his attention back to the lists. Soon the flag dropped and he and Hart charged towards each other.

As they got closer, Jack lowered his lance and took aim. At the last second Hart thrust his lance forward and Jack felt blinding pain surge through his shoulder. Dropping his lance without hitting Hart he focused through the pain so he could stay on Myfanwy’s back.

He could hear the ‘Ooohhs’ and whispered shock spread through the crowd. Finally opening his eyes, he stared down at the piece of wood jutting out of his shoulder just below his collarbone. The other’s appeared at his side, he hadn’t even heard them approach, too busy trying to hold back his shock and pain as his eyes drifted closed again. The voices of his worried friends echoed around him until one voice cut through it all.

“Oh, God. I’ll fetch the surgeon.” Jack’s eyes snapped open to stare at a worried Ianto who

  
was about to run off again. When had he gotten there? Jack wondered hazily.

“No!” Jack gasped. Ianto spun around and their eyes locked.

“Rhys. You’re the surgeon now.” Jack glanced at his friend who stood beside him. “Come on,” he urged as Rhys stood on a crate to reach him.

Rhys hesitated momentarily before wrapping his hand around the piece of wood. Closing his eyes Rhys yanked, pulling the wood free from Jack’s shoulder and the armour in one move.

Jack cried out in pain, but Ianto’s soothing voice beside him helped him stay with them.

“He’s tipped it,” Tosh hissed, staring at the piece of wood Rhys was holding.

“Dirty son of bitch,” Owen growled, about to go after Hart but Ianto caught his arm.

“When this is over I’ll deal with him, I promise,” Ianto promised. Owen stared at Ianto before nodding in acceptance.

“Tosh, get me back to our end. Otherwise we forfeit.”

“Jack, you can’t possibly keep going,” Ianto said walking alongside his lover, not caring who was watching. He had his cousin-in-law’s blessing. It would be a signed document by morning and right now, after everything that had happened, nothing would stop him being there.

“I will finish this,” Jack insisted.

 

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Ianto watched as and Jack and Hart once more charged towards each other. Jack’s arm, unable to hold the heavy lance up dropped and seconds later Hart’s lance collided with his chest. Ianto thanked the heavens that the lance had hit him at an angle, preventing the tipped end to stab Jack again.

Rushing to Jack’s side with the others they were terrified to see him struggling to breathe. Tosh quickly jumped on one stand and Ianto on another that Owen and Rhys had run over with so they could get his armour off so he could breathe again.

“As I said, Harkness, in what world could you have ever beaten me. Such a place does not exist,” Hart sneered, pulling his horse up on the other side of the central barrier.

“’Change your stars’, that’s what Gray said you’d done. He’s here Jack. Up in the stands with Rhiannon, we brought him to see you compete just like you wanted.”

Jack stared between Ianto and his brother who was watching him worriedly from the stands. “Let’s dance you and I,” Jack said, locking eyes with Hart. The other man looked at him cautiously before urging his horse back to his end of the field.

“It’s two lances to none. You must unhorse him or kill him. It’s the only way to win,” Rhys

said as they made their way back to their end, Owen leading Myfanwy and Tosh carrying his armour as he caught his breath.

Once Myfanwy was back in position Tosh climbed up on the crate to put Jack back in his armour. “You need more padding,” she sighed, reaching over to check the dressing they’d quickly put on his arm in the last break.

“No, leave it off. I can’t breathe with it on,” Jack said. Tosh stared at him in shock before turning her eyes to Rhys and Ianto hoping one of them would tell her what to do.

“Jack…” Rhys began but Ianto saw the look in his lover’s eyes and rested his hand on Rhys arm to silence him.

Jack nodded a thank you before looking at Owen. “Lance.” He tried to take the lance Owen handed to him but it slipped from his grip almost instantly. “I can barely grip it…  Lash it to my arm,” Jack said as the idea came to him. Owen look at him in shock. “Owen, lash it to my arm,” Jack pushed.

“Do as he says,” Ianto said, handing Owen a length of rope.

 

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Andy watched as they did something to Jack at their end. The flag was about to drop and Jack wasn’t ready.  An idea formed in his mind as he quickly scaled the stairs into the royal booth and jumped up onto the railing.

“Good people, I missed my introduction!”

Andy smirked as the crowd cheered for him, he might not be a knight, but he was not unknown, there were even a few people chanting ‘Chaucer’.

The man holding the starting flag looked up to the Prince for instructions and Prince John waved his hand, signalling for him to wait.

“But please…please I pray you, hear it now,” Andy said when Prince John gestured for him to continue. “For I would lay rest the grace in my tongue and speak plain. Days like these are far too rare to cheapen with heavy handed words. And so, I’m afraid with an ado whatsoever… excuse me, my lord,” Andy said stepping onto the arms of the throne between Prince John and Princess Rose, both of them looking up at him in amusement. “Here he is! One of your own! Born as stones throw from this very stadium and here before you now. The brother of Gray Harkness! Sir Jack Harkness!”

The crowd went wild cheering and chanting Jack’s name, his real name.

 

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“That’s your name Jack. Sir Jack Harkness. Your brother heard that,” Ianto said, squeezing Jack’s leg and giving him a smile. Jack smiled back at him, his eyes swimming with such strong emotions and stunned acceptance at the reality that was before him.

  
“Look after him for me beautiful,” Ianto whispered, patting Myfanwy’s shoulder as he stepped back to stand with the others.

 

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Ianto stood wringing his hands nervously. His lover was about to ride into a joust without a scrap of armour on and a wounded arm. A joust which would either seal his name in the history books or kill him. He’d finally found someone to love who wasn’t after his money or his title, someone to love him back, he didn’t want to lose him now, he couldn’t.

 

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Hart glared at Jack across the field. The young knight may have had the Prince’s favour but there was no way Jack could win now, he would be keeping his title as World Champion. There was an added bonus to this match; the man’s stupidity not to wear his armour meant a blow to the chest would surely kill him. Hart would be rid of the nuisance for good and he wouldn’t even be questioned for murder as it was all part of the sport.

 

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Jack’s eyes trailed the stadium listening as a majority of the crowd chanted his name. His friends stood by him, supporting him even though they weren’t happy about what was happening. His lover, smiled at him encouragingly, though the fear and worry in his eyes clearly echoed that of his friends, and in the stands sat his brother; alive and healthy. He’d kept his promise, he’d followed his dream, he’d changed his stars. He had a future and it looked near perfect. Now he had to fight to keep it, and he would win.

The flag dropped.

The knight’s charged.

 

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Hart lay on his back staring at the clear blue sky above him. A shadow fell across him as someone leant over to stare down at him.

Blinking to focus his eyes he recognized it as Jack Harkness’ fat squire. “You have been weighed...”

The skinny stroppy squire joined his companion. “You have been measured...”

Now the woman Ferris was there, what on earth was going on. “And you absolutely...”

“...have been found wanting,” Chaucer stated stepping into view.

“Welcome to the new world.” What on Earth was General Jones doing hanging around with these riff raffs anyway.

Jack appeared, leaning in awfully close and comfortable to Jones. “God save you, if it is right that he do so.”

He stared up as they all smirked at him before disappearing.

Everything faded to black as cheering and chanting broke through his semi consciousness.

“Harkness, Harkness, Harkness!”

Strong arms pulled him to his feet, his head spinning from the blow which had knocked him unconscious. “Count Hart, you are under arrest.”

 

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At the last second Jack had thrust his lance forward with all the strength he could muster. His lance slammed into a surprised and unprepared Hart, sending him tumbling off the back of his horse and to the ground, knocking him out as he landed on his head.

The crowd went wild with cheers for their champion.

“YES!!” Prince John yelled jumping up with Rose, pulling her into his arms and spinning her around in his excitement.

Gray stood up and cheered as Jack pulled Myfanwy to a stop in front of them, grinning at his brother as he yanked his arms free of the binding that tied the remaining end of the lance to his arm.

Rhiannon watched in relief as her betrothed, Johnny Davies, had two of Ianto’s men arrest Hart and drag him from the stadium.

The others ran over from their end of the field, Ianto the fittest of them was in the lead so he reached Jack first. The two wrapped themselves in each other’s arms, kissing passionately, sharing both their relief and elation.

The crowd fell quiet in surprise, looking to their prince for guidance. Seeing their Prince clapping and smiling they knew this was a relationship he had blessed and began to cheer once more.

Gwen joined Rhys as he, Owen and Andy stood in front of the royal podium clapping for their friends who were too wrapped up in each other to care about the world around them.


	18. Epilogue

“What is this place?” Jack asked, staring at the large manor on the opposite hill. The three of them sat atop their horses, Jack in the middle on Myfanwy, Prince John on his mare, Tardis to Jack’s left and Ianto on his mare, Cymru to Jack’s right.

“That is Torchwood manor. When the family was killed, the estate fell under the royal family’s tenure. As it was where you claimed to be from I thought it suitable the Torchwood estate become yours. They are going to waste in the crown’s possession. They are all fully staffed and generating income and they are now yours,” Prince John bequeathed.

Jack stared at him in shock. “Sire, I couldn’t possibly.”

“I can’t have a knight without an estate, besides it will be staying in the family. Especially since Ianto has left the Jones estate to Johnny and Rhiannon. You wouldn’t deprive your partner of a home would you?” John asked with a smirk.

Jack turned and stared at Ianto in shock; Ianto had not told him about the Jones estate.

“Well, Sir Jack Harkness-Jones of Torchwood,” Ianto whispered, staring into his partner’s eyes, “Shall we go and explore our new home?”

 

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The End


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